The Boy Who Wouldn't Be Missed
by I.J. Beckinsdale
Summary: Hunger Games/Glee crossover. Blaine is a somewhat willing Tribute from District 12, and goes to the Capitol not wanting or expecting to last long. Then he meets someone who changes his mind and might save his life. Set roughly 100 years after THG canon.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi there! This is my first ever crossover and I'm a little bit nervous about it. I had this idea come into my head, and thought I'd see what people think. I have a lot going on at the moment, but I thought if there was enough of a response after this short chapter, if people seem to enjoy where it's going, I'll keep it up. **

**I hope you enjoy it!**

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or The Hunger Games, or any associated names etc.

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><p>Blaine Anderson brushed a stray curl off his face as he made his way eagerly to the District 12 reaping. People from the Capitol, who seemingly operated more like drones, had been setting up since the early morning; installing screens and ensuring everything was immaculate for broadcast to the rest of Panem.<p>

Many people exchanged bewildered glances as Blaine rushed past, brushing off his hasty apologies in favour of raising their eyebrows at his enthusiasm to get to the District square. They couldn't help but be curious as to the Anderson boy's odd behaviour.

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><p>The Anderson family was wonderful at putting up pretences, and the suggestion that they were a harmonious family was probably the best one that they fronted.<p>

The truth was; they were far more dysfunctional than a typical family. Blaine's mother had a lame leg and had lost her voice after a near death experience in her early twenties. The event that caused this was something both her and her husband refused to address with not only their family, but the rest of the District. Consequently it often served as a cause for gossip when there was nothing else to discuss, and Blaine found he couldn't evade the rumours wherever he seemed to go.

Blaine's father was a coal miner, like most of the other men in District 12, however he was much harsher than many of the others he worked with. Where most fathers had enough sense to love their children and realised that they may not have them for many more years to come, Maximillian Anderson could care less.

In his opinion, Blaine was a waste of time. The fact that Blaine didn't care for the same things as many of the others in his district, which Maximillian attributed to his son's sexuality, was social suicide. Even in District 12.

Blaine's father had been brought up on the straight and narrow. Men married women and had children who would one day be offered up as tributes for the Hunger Games. Blaine's mother didn't exactly hate Blaine for who he was, but she didn't support him either.

Blaine didn't blame her for it though, he understood. Being in any way supportive of her gay son as well as being married to Maximillian Anderson was a complete paradox.

And then there was his older brother. Cooper. Cooper was six years older and had survived all of the reapings. He now worked in the same coal mine as their father, and did everything to make his parents proud.

Cooper used to be everything Blaine had aspired to be, until he came out and told Cooper he was gay. It was then that he saw how similar Cooper and his father were.

Cooper's solution was to constantly introduce Blaine to different girls of his age. Unfortunately Blaine spent most of his time at school by himself, and Cooper grew impatient with his brother's lack of social skills. Even his peers thought he was strange, regardless of sexuality.

Blaine didn't have many friends. His family didn't think much of him. He didn't have much going for him in District 12 at all.

It was these thoughts that pulsed through Blaine's mind as he stood staring up at the stage in the District 12 square. He glanced up at the gargantuan screens, trying to pick out his face amongst the many other terrified faces of his peers.

There was a _thud_ and Blaine focused back on the stage, where a lady in a horrible fuchsia number was tapping the microphone. He wrinkled his nose. The Capitol was meant to be the forefront of fashion and culture, but the outfits he had seen throughout the past reapings he had been to certainly didn't sell it to him.

"Happy Hunger Games!" A rather nasally voice called, and Blaine winced. She didn't even _sound_ elegant. "And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

Blaine's mind wandered from the obnoxiously loud voice and he hoped this year, as he had the past few, that the odds would be in everyone else's favour.

He longed to be pulled from that glass bowl. So many names, and he would gladly volunteer himself as tribute, except no one had done that in nearly one hundred years.

Blaine's chest tightened as he thought back on the years before he'd come out; where he'd often wondered if Cooper would ever volunteer in order to prevent him from having to compete.

It could have been a possibility; until Blaine had told Cooper that he liked boys the way Cooper liked girls. Cooper had rushed to his parents and told them Blaine's secret; completely shattering any sense of trust Blaine had.

After that occasion, it was as if Blaine was dead. He was invisible to his parents, Blaine's father barking an order at him occasionally, or reprimanding him for something that someone else had done, but never again treating him like a son.

Blaine felt so invisible, and that no matter what he did, he'd never find acceptance. His family never noticed when he was home, why should they notice when his imminent death was broadcast to all of the Districts?

If anything, Blaine's father would mutter something about how much of a disappointment Blaine was, and deny the fact that he was his son.

The thought should have upset Blaine, but he found it liberating to think that he really had nothing tying him down at all.

Blaine brought his mind back to the present, trying to pay attention to what Fiona Reading, the lady with the loud outfit and equally ridiculous voice, was doing on the stage.

He'd been fortunate enough to zone out for the entirety of her speech, and she was now making her way towards one of two glass bowls.

As was the norm, the girls name was pulled out first.

"Santana Lopez."

Chatter broke out as an athletic girl, who Blaine recalled as being about the same age as him, stepped out from the crowd and made her way towards the stage; chin held high as she tried to remain staunch. Blaine could see her lip quiver slightly as she strode past. No matter how brave people tried to be, he could always see through them.

"And now for the gentlemen."

Fiona Reading turned to the other bowl, fingers wriggling above the many folded papers as she tried to drag things out and make it more 'exciting'.

Blaine rolled his eyes, sighing as she finally pulled a slip of paper out and turned to the front once more.

Blaine's mouth ran dry. This was it.

"Please," he murmured, "Blaine Anderson, please."

He twisted his fingers together, not too sure what he'd do with himself if he had to live in District 12 much longer. He'd rather lose his life in some ridiculous competition than be stuck living with people who had no desire to be anywhere near him.

Fiona Reading opened her mouth, smiling broadly as she always seemed to when she was trying to deliver what she considered good news.

"Blaine Anderson."

Blaine's stomach writhed. Had she just called his name? Did he imagine it?

People turned to stare at Blaine, and he swallowed thickly. It _was_ him. After so many horrible years of waiting and praying to whatever deities were out there, he was finally escaping District 12.

Blaine remembered his legs, and put them to use, walking stiffly up to the stage. Nobody spoke. He was just the strange boy that tended to keep to himself. The one with no friends.

The boy who wouldn't be missed.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: wow! Thank you for all of your lovely reviews, it looks like this is going to keep going, and your support is so appreciated, thank you ALL.**

**Just a heads up in terms of updating: I'm going to complete the next chapter before updating... So, chapter three is finished, I've just got to finish chapter 4 before I publish it.**

****Disclaimer: Don't own Glee or the Hunger Games, they are the properties of their respective owners.

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><p>Blaine stared across at Santana as they stood facing the entire district. His hands trembled, and his stomach churned. He didn't feel nervous that he would potentially be dead in less than a month, but more for the fact that he was standing up there, in front of everybody.<p>

For so long he had tried to blend in, go unnoticed. But now he was District 12's male tribute. Everybody would be watching him. They'd see how reluctantly he would try to survive. Maybe then they'd realise, Blaine thought bitterly.

He'd contemplated actually making an effort, but the thought that it would be futile didn't encourage him. Nobody really _cared_. His parents probably wouldn't even watch the Games, lest they be embarrassed with how terribly he went.

Blaine scuffed one of his shoes as he stared out over the District square. He could vaguely make out Cooper, standing off to the side with their parents.

They wouldn't miss him.

The next thing he knew, Santana was approaching him, her hand outstretched. He took it firmly, shaking it as they both smiled nervously out over the square.

Santana seemed to be making a valiant effort to hold herself together. Blaine couldn't judge her, so many of the past female tributes who had broken down on the stage, regardless of district, often did poorly when it came to gaining sponsors. They needed to be stoic.

Blaine would learn in time that Santana was, like him, superb at wearing a mask.

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><p>The pair were led to the Justice Building, and directed to individual rooms. Blaine slumped against the wall, not even walking as far as the comfy looking chair. He was beyond caring.<p>

He knew nobody would come through the door, until he was taken to go to the Capitol. Despite all the little fantasies he had of his parents coming to farewell him, weeping over the son they had never taken the time to love, Blaine couldn't help but feel his heartbreak with the realisation that it wouldn't happen. He'd had no doubt that would be the case, but it didn't stop his heart sinking that little bit further in his chest.

He wondered if they would regret it, when they saw their son's slaughter being broadcast to all of Panem. Blaine snorted at the thought of his family actually watching the Games at all. They'd probably stop whenever Blaine was on the screen.

He stared around the room slightly bewildered, as everything began to sink in.

"I'm actually a tribute," he murmured, stomach fluttering. It all seemed so surreal. After watching the Hunger Games for countless years, he was now to take part. To try and survive.

Survival meant nothing to Blaine when he had no desire to return to District 12, regardless of wealth. He would still be an outcast, just progressing up the social ladder to be someone everybody pretended to like for their own personal gain.

Blaine was sick of feeling less than human, and if he had to die as a tribute to end that particular sense of being, then he was all for it.

There was a gentle rap on the door and Blaine glanced up. Surely visiting rights weren't over yet, Blaine thought to himself, it had only been a few minutes since he was brought into the room.

The massive door lurched open and Blaine could have sworn time stopped. There stood Cooper, hair dishevelled and eyes overly bright.

"What do you want?" Blaine snapped, surprising even himself with his disposition.

"I... Blaine..." Cooper's voice caught, and he swallowed, glancing nervously across to where his younger brother sat, glaring up at him.

"I know it's a really stupid time, and I'm completely ridiculous for thinking this might change things, but I wanted to come by and tell you how sorry I am. For all the times I made you feel like you weren't good enough. Like you were less than a human being. You're my brother, and I was just trying to do what I thought was right."

"Don't give me that crap, Coop." Blaine muttered, turning away to stare out the window.

"No, seriously. Dad was always there telling me how to be, how to _think_ and I never questioned it. When you... when you told me you were gay, I didn't know what to do! I still wanted to think of you as my amazing little brother, but Dad would've killed me if he knew I was okay with you being the way you were... the way you _are_. I was terrified of him. I still am. But I don't want you going out there with nothing to live for, Blaine. You need to survive."

Blaine smiled weakly at his brother, "Thanks Coop, but this probably wasn't the best time to have that speech. Even if you do care about me now, nobody else does. There's nothing worth living for. I just want to get out of this place and never have to return."

Cooper nodded sadly, "I knew it was a terrible idea to try and talk to you when it was too late. I guess I just needed to give it a go, even just for myself. I'm so sorry, Blaine. Please, just... God, I can't even think properly, I've been such a horrible person. Please be brave. Blaine, you're such a strong person, don't let them change you."

Blaine's eyes widened, taken aback with how emotional Cooper was making him and he swallowed as he glanced up at how conflicted his usually staunch older brother seemed.

"I will Coop."

The door burst open and Fiona Reading strolled in, flanked by two guards.

"Okay Mister Anderson, it's time for us to head off to the Capitol."

Cooper helped Blaine up off the floor, pulling him in for a brief, albeit awkward embrace.

"Remember, be brave. And I'm honestly so sorry."

Blaine locked his hazel eyes with Cooper's bright blue, betraying no emotion whatsoever.

"I'm sorry too. Bye."

Cooper's eyes welled up, and he rubbed the tears away furiously. If his father knew he was saying goodbye to Blaine, he'd be disowned, and a part of him could have cared less.

Even though he'd been horrible to him, Cooper still saw Blaine as his baby brother. He felt awful that he'd listened to his father for so many important years of Blaine's life.

As Cooper made his way out of the building, his mind flooded with 'what ifs.' What if he'd been more accepting? What if he hadn't violated Blaine's privacy? Kept his brother's sexuality private? Would their father have been more accepting? What if he had paid more attention to Blaine when he had clearly been troubled for so long? What if Blaine's name hadn't been pulled out? Would he have killed himself rather than continue to live in District 12?

What concerned Cooper the most was that he couldn't think of an answer for that. He felt like Blaine was almost a stranger to him, and he was fairly certain that feeling was reciprocated.

Cooper walked out of the room as slowly as he could, trying to take in the most of the last sight of his brother as he was able before Cooper was led through the back doors and out into the empty District 12 square.

He didn't care what his parents said or did, Blaine was his brother, and he would support him; regardless of whether Blaine wanted that support or not.

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><p>Blaine was led out to a hallway, where he could hear muffled sobs and a soothing voice from the room Santana was in. Sure enough, the dark haired girl emerged a few moments later, face streaked with tears as a tall blonde girl was led out of the building.<p>

Blaine glanced across at Santana, "Hey," he murmured softly, taking her hand softly.

She looked heartbroken.

Blaine knew the feeling too well.

"Someone special?" He whispered, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand lightly. He'd often seen Santana with the blonde haired girl, Brittany, he thought her name was. They were essentially inseparable, and Blaine wouldn't have been surprised if it was something more than friendship.

Santana eyed him warily, "We're just friends." She said almost forcefully, the crack in her voice preceding another sob.

Blaine gazed at her, concern etched on his features as he nodded gently, knowing this wasn't the full truth, but that he was essentially a complete stranger and she probably didn't want to share her personal life.

"Okay, cool. Just letting you know, in case you have problems with it or whatever, I... I'm gay. If you don't want to train with me that's fine and I get it... I've spent most of my life avoiding people anyway so..."

"Don't be ridiculous," Santana retorted, "You're being so kind to me when we may have to have to kill each other in less than a month. You're a great guy Blaine, and I'd love to train with you. Besides, maybe we'd make good allies."

Blaine nodded, smiling faintly. Maybe. If he actually had any desire to live.

Fiona Reading strode back into the hallway where Blaine and Santana sat leaning against the wall.

"Let's go to the Capitol!" She exclaimed, smiling at them in a manner Blaine supposed was meant to be supportive. Her offensively white teeth and manic eyes scared him.

He felt Santana grip his hand tightly as they followed Fiona out of the building.

And so it would all begin.

Two weeks of training and Blaine had absolutely no idea what he could have to defend himself in terms of skill. He didn't know what to expect. He knew there was training, and he knew that he would be thrust into an unfamiliar environment, but he didn't know who he was up against, or how quickly he could expect to die.

He couldn't help but wonder how he'd be feeling if he hadn't been disowned by his family. Would he care about survival then?

Blaine couldn't imagine he would. Sure, an accepting family would be wonderful, but District 12 had nothing to offer in terms of what meant the most to him in his life.

Love.

Blaine knew it seemed naive, and for so long he'd thought it was stupid, but he'd come to realise he didn't have much else to offer the world. He'd decided that since he had no visible talents that maybe he just had to find someone who could bring out the best in him.

Finding someone to love, and who would love him in return was a rather difficult task, however, considering he was the only boy in the district who openly identified as being gay. He figured any others would be too terrified in such a place as District 12.

Not everybody had a problem with homosexuality, but there was a general closed-mindedness about the district that left acceptance as something to be much desired.

His secret had only become known after he'd told Cooper.

_Cooper._

Blaine's heart twisted as he glanced out the carriage window, having one last glimpse of District 12.

He knew Cooper was trying to make amends for how he had treated Blaine in the past, but it hadn't had much of an effect. For all Blaine had experienced, Cooper would probably end up going back to being as ambivalent as he had been before if Blaine returned as a champion.

He didn't see the point in trying when it was a complete lose-lose situation.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: just a quick one to say I've gone against what I said and am posting this one before chapter four is written but that's because I don't know when the next chapter will be up; I've got a friend here from the other side of the country and it's my birthday on Wednesday so... I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please don't hesitate to let me know what you thought! I try and reply to every review but sometimes ffn hates me. **

**I also just want to chuck a shout out here to BloodRedLust and DorkyDuck09, they're both amazing writers and well worth checking out!**

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the Hunger Games or characters associated with either. Peace out.

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><p>Blaine ambled down the train's dining carriage, astounded with how everything managed to stay so still despite the intense speed at which they were travelling.<p>

He hadn't seen Santana much since they had left for the Capitol. She had been keeping mostly to herself, and Blaine had been spending his time getting to know their mentor.

Nicholas Robertson was an attractive, well shaped man who Blaine estimated to be in his early forties. He was the champion of the 160th Hunger Games, aged 17. As Blaine learnt, the only contestant he'd had to kill had been the only other one remaining, a Career from District Two.

Nicholas kept reminding Blaine of how the Careers were the trickiest to beat, or avoid, considering their whole lives had been spent training for the Games.

Apparently not all Careers had swimming lessons included in their training, Nicholas had remarked, smirking slightly. The arena that year had consisted predominantly of water, and he had killed the Career by drowning her.

As time dragged on, Blaine could do nothing but sit and nod warily as Nicholas bombarded him with information and advice; pretending he actually cared about surviving.

He did feel a little guilty that Nicholas would be investing so much time on him, only for Blaine to throw it to the wind as soon as he entered the arena.

Currently, Nicholas was regaling Blaine with a story of how he survived his first night in the Arena, "I hadn't eaten all day Blaine, all day! No food!"

Blaine smiled and nodded, trying not to think of how it must have been the tenth time that day he'd heard that particular story.

"And then I heard the sixth cannon and I thought to myse- oh! Santana, welcome!"

Santana sank down in the chair next to Blaine.

"Hi Mister Robertson."

"Oh please, call me Nicholas, or Nick. It's really up to the pair of you."

The older man's ocean blue eyes twinkled as he brushed his hair off of his face. Blaine smiled. He was a rather nice person, even if he talked enough for all of District 12.

"Okay, Nick, sorry I wasn't here, I haven't... haven't been feeling well. What have I missed?"

Blaine thumped his head against the chair in mild frustration as Nick once more broke into what he referred to as his 'survival tales of truly epic proportions'.

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><p>Kurt Hummel stood staring out over the Capitol from his apartment. Today he would get to start working with his first Tribute. He knew it was an honour to be employed by the Capitol to work for the Hunger Games, and was finally a chance for him to flaunt the talent he possessed at such a young age.<p>

At the tender age of 19, Kurt Hummel had beaten out numerous stylists years older than himself for this role. Smiling, Kurt glanced over at the book that held his designs for this year's tributes. Blaine Anderson and Santana Lopez.

Their measurements had been taken before they left District 12, and sent on to the Capitol so that Kurt, and Tina, his associate, could get to work.

Tina was the same age as Kurt, but she was also relatively gifted when it came to fashion. Tina had an eye for potential styles and often she and Kurt would stay up late together discussing where the Capitol's fashion was going.

Kurt thought the bright colours of what was considered 'fashionable' to be extremely tacky. He knew he stood out from those around him for his more personal style; clothes he found comfortable but which enhanced his rather slender, yet well sculpted figure. Kurt decided he would rather stand out for looking less vibrant than wearing clothes that assaulted the corneas of other people walking by him.

Not to mention the ridiculous makeup.

Kurt flipped the sketchbook open, eyes falling on Blaine's 'costume' for the Tribute Parade. Kurt knew the aspect of District 12 that he had decided to focus upon for this year would be deemed slightly more _interesting_ than was usual, but it was a design Kurt was rather proud of.

He couldn't wait to see if it worked.

Kurt knew that he was given District 12 to work with as a way to prove himself, before he began working up towards the better districts, but truth be told, he didn't mind.

Kurt had personal ties to District 12 that few knew about.

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><p>Blaine peered out the window as the Train drew closer to the Capitol.<p>

Their journey had gone quicker than he'd expected, and Blaine's stomach fluttered as he thought of how much things were going to change.

For now though, Blaine was just happy to have finally left District 12.

Blaine and Santana had grown closer over the duration of their trip, and he'd listened to all the stories she'd told him about growing up with a loving family and friends.

Although Blaine didn't think he'd had the best life, he didn't pity himself like Santana seemed to.

She'd taken his hand gently as he told her about the time Cooper's friends had beaten him unconscious and left him at the fence separating District 12 from the forest surrounding it.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," Santana had murmured, a tear slipping from her eye as Blaine had let down his walls and showed her some of the scars on his chest.

"It helped turn me into the person I am."

"Yes, but Blaine, you're not happy."

Blaine had gaped, completely taken aback.

"I..."

"Blaine, these last few days that I've gotten to know you, I've seen a boy who doesn't care if he makes it through the first thirty seconds in the arena. I'm just sorry your life has led you to feel this way."

Blaine had sighed, resting his head against the back of the chair.

"Feelings have only ever led to me getting hurt. It's better this way. I'm not going to be in anyone's way."

Santana had pulled Blaine in for a hug then, and he'd almost fainted in surprise. For someone who he'd often regarded as staunch and heartless, she wasn't holding out on her emotions anymore.

"Blaine?"

Blaine blinked at Santana's mention of his name, drawn back to the present.

"Mmyeah?"

"We're here."

Her eyes were wide as she told him, and Blaine noted how much his own hands were shaking.

As much as he wanted this, it was terrifying.

As soon as they stepped off the train, they would be swept off and primped and preened for the Tribute Parade.

That was one of the things Blaine was dreading the most, apart from the interviews.

Tonight he and Santana, along with all of the other tributes, would be revealed to the Capitol.

He couldn't help but be a little worried with what they would have to wear. For years, the costumes had all been variations of each other. Being from a coal mining district didn't exactly leave much for the stylists to work with.

The train door hissed open, and Blaine's heart began racing; there were people quite literally everywhere. For a boy from District 12, it was all quite terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

While most of the people were waiting to see the tributes arriving, there was still the general hustle and bustle of the Capitol train station taking place all around them.

The cacophony of sounds assaulted Blaine's ears and he struggled to think clearly. Glancing across to Santana, he noticed she seemed to be having the same experience.

"This is crazy!" She cried to Nicholas, who simply beamed.

"Welcome to the Capitol, kids!"

Fiona Reading appeared at Blaine's side, and led them down to a shuttle which would lead them to where his and Santana's transformations would begin to take place.

Blaine's stomach churned as Cooper's words drifted through his mind, "Don't let them change you". Blaine snorted derisively; changing was all part of the Games.

"Once we get to the building, you will be taken care of by some of the Capitol's finest beauticians," Fiona remarked, glancing down at a small gadget in her palm, "Then once you are both looking slightly more... refined, you will meet with your stylists. Santana, you will be with Tina C, and Blaine, you'll be with Kurt Hummel. They're our newest stylists, and they're both particularly promising."

Blaine nodded, not really paying much attention as he gazed out the window of the shuttle, the Capitol passing them by.

At least he'd die having been somewhere other than the dull confines of District 12.

Blaine turned to Santana, who was leaning back in her seat, eyes closed.

She hadn't been sleeping much, and Blaine had heard her crying more often than not.

Blaine took her hand gently; an action the two of them had taken to doing as a means to comfort the other. He was quite pleasantly surprised by the friendship they seemed to have formed, but he was worried how she'd cope with not having someone there with her when he died.

Blaine smiled grimly at that thought. As horrible as it no doubt sounded, the eventuality of his death seemed inevitable to him.

Santana smiled sadly at Blaine, knowing they didn't have much time left to simply sit idly.

Blaine couldn't deny that he was slightly excited for the training days. Even though he didn't consider his life worth preserving by trying to defend himself, he loved the feeling of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

The last time Blaine had felt such a rush was when he tried to defend himself from Cooper's friends. He'd managed a few decent punches, and kneed one of them in the crotch, but Blaine had definitely come off worse.

He'd been found by a middle aged woman, who'd taken him back to her home and healed him. Blaine had informed her sadly, once he gained consciousness, that he had nothing to offer her, other than running errands, but she had smiled and declined, saying her own son was able to do them.

Blaine had been shocked by her kindness, something he'd missed once he returned home after the three days it took for most of his injuries to heal somewhat.

His parents hadn't noticed his absence, and Cooper was never around.

He'd often wanted to go back and offer to help the lady, despite the fact that she declined his first offer, but when he returned a few weeks later, she and her son had disappeared.

Rumour had it she was newly married to a man who had just been sponsored to move to the Capitol, something Blaine had never heard of.

It must have taken a lot of money, or bribery or something equally difficult, for that sort of thing to occur.

Blaine shook his head, bringing himself back to the present.

The training days were going to be his chance to see what he was up against.

He had no doubt that the Careers would dominate, as was so often the case, but Blaine couldn't stop himself from wondering what would happen if he had any kind of tangible talent. If he could defend himself somehow.

Blaine knew his helplessness was something he had control over, but it was exhausting to try and motivate himself.

He felt like he'd been running all of his life, trying to please people, trying so, so hard to measure up to what everybody expected of him, and it was exhausting.

He was beyond caring.

That was what he kept thinking as the elevator took the small party of four up the elevator, to where Blaine and Santana would undergo the start of their Tribute preparation.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: hey folks! Here's an update for you because the feedback on this has been much more substantial than my last multichap was, it's an incredible feeling to read those reviews and see people like what I'm writing! Keep 'em coming, if you would like to, I'm not one to force people against their will. **

**I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!**

Disclaimer: Don't own Glee or the Hunger Games. All characters are property of their respective owners.

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><p>Blaine and Santana stepped out of the elevator, gawking at the cavernous entryway.<p>

"Well, Blaine, Santana, these lovely people are going to take you now, and when we get you back you'll be looking..." Fiona Reading coughed awkwardly, allowing herself to be led away by one of the members of staff.

Nicholas smiled encouragingly at the young duo as several brightly clad women, the beauticians, tittered over, grinning at Blaine. He heard the word 'eyebrows' and swallowed nervously.

"Hi, you must be Blaine!" One of them exclaimed, taking his arm gently, "We're here to make you look ... um, nice."

Blaine's mouth ran dry, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Santana being led in the opposite direction.

He was taken to a rigid looking steel chair with thin black leather cushioning, and couldn't stop the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something told him this was going to be painful.

The first wax strip was ripped from Blaine's brow line and he bit back a sharp yelp. One of the beauticians examined the wax strip, wrinkling her nose at the coarse black hairs. Blaine's eyes watered; why did people do this? Eyebrows were just... eyebrows, something not requiring maintenance, or so he'd always thought. He hoped he'd still have some left at the end; it felt like they were taking each hair out individually.

Finally, the pain subsided and Blaine glanced over in the mirror. They were no different, if not more angular than before.

With a sigh, Blaine turned his attention back to where one of the assistants was mixing a foamy looking substance. She turned to him, fluttering her bright blue eyelashes.

"Now we're going to shave your face."

Blaine nodded, leaning back in the chair and jutting his jaw out as the cream was gently spread on his chin and lower cheeks.

He closed his eyes, feeling the gentle scrape of the razor blade along his face, praying that whoever this person was knew how to get that awkward spot just under his chin that he always seemed to miss. Blaine's eyes flicked open, a slight sting piercing just under his ear.

"Oh my gosh I'm so sorry!" The lady gushed, pressing a cotton pad against the nick in Blaine's skin as gently as she could.

"It's okay," Blaine murmured as he closed his eyes once more, grateful that this all only had to happen once.

A cool cloth was wiped over his face, and he hissed as something with an overly obnoxious smell was rubbed around his jaw, not helped by the rather unpleasant sting that came with it.

"Alright, and now we've just got to cut and style your hair. Kurt will probably end up changing it, but we get told to make you look a certain way."

Blaine just nodded again, not really caring what was happening to him anymore.

He sat staring at the floor as his hair was snipped and styled, his long-ish curls refined slightly closer to his scalp.

A mirror was placed in front of him, and Blaine sighed sadly at how short his hair now was. Although he still had a few curls framing his face, creeping across his forehead, he felt so bald in comparison to how his hair had been before.

The mirror was taken away, and then they put the hair product in.

If Blaine thought he'd looked and felt essentially bald before, it was nothing to what the three women were using to plaster his hair to his scalp.

It made his hair shine, and smelled funny, and he didn't really like it. However there wasn't much else he could do, other than hope that this Kurt person would be able to make it look better.

"Alright, well you're all done Blaine; Kurt will be in here soon to do his thing."

Blaine slumped in his chair: he was absolutely exhausted and ready for sleep. He just wanted to forget about taking part in the tribute parade. He had just started to doze when there was a soft rap on the wall, and he blinked sleepily.

"Blaine Anderson?"

"Mm, tha's me," Blaine mumbled tiredly, unable to pay much attention to whoever the soft voice belonged to due to his exhaustion. He cracked an eye open, immediately rubbing at his eyes in disbelief as he stared at the _gorgeous_ man standing in front of him. Blaine's eyes widened and he felt his cheeks flush.

Whoever the man in front of him was, he definitely surpassed all preconceived notions of perfection Blaine had. Blaine wondered if this was how it felt to be resuscitated: his heart was racing a million miles a minute and he felt like someone had doused him with a cold bucket of water. Blaine realised with horror that his cheeks felt almost painfully warm, and he ducked his head to try and hide the obnoxious shade of bright red that had overtaken his face..

His blatant, albeit brief ogling was ended when the attractive man hissed sharply, causing Blaine to snap his gaze, which had been travelling... other places, back up to his face.

"Good God, Blaine, what have they done to your hair?"

Blaine shrugged absently, eyes focused now on the other man's immaculate hair.

"I'm Kurt Hummel, by the way, and I'm going to be your stylist."

Blaine shook the elegant hand that was extended towards him, wary of how sweaty his palms must have felt to Kurt.

"So, what on earth did they assault your curls with?"

Blaine glanced up to see Kurt was now standing very close to him. Almost too close for comfort, if Kurt Hummel wasn't such an incredibly attractive person.

Blaine cleared his throat nervously, "I uh, don't really know, they just chucked some stuff on it. It smells weird."

Kurt heaved a sigh, "Gosh and look at your eyebrows too. I'm so sorry, I swear those women don't actually know what they're doing and I can already see that on my first day."

Blaine smiled softly, the blush in his cheeks not fading as Kurt's gaze raked over him.

"We're going to get all of this gel out of your hair, then I'm going to try and make you look a bit more... a bit more how I imagine you would like to." Kurt said with an air of decisiveness.

Kurt led Blaine over to a small stall, sitting him down in a chair vaguely similar to the one in which Blaine had sat to have his face shaved and eyebrows waxed.

"If you sit down here and lean your head back we'll get that god-awful stuff out of your hair."

Blaine nodded, the faint remainder of a blush still dusting his cheeks. He couldn't deny the fact that Kurt was extremely attractive, and the way that Kurt's piercing blue eyes crinkled with a smile whenever they met with Blaine's own drove him wild.

Blaine scolded himself; Kurt was a stranger. Someone paid by the Capitol to make him look good. Any hints of a crush Blaine thought he may have had were crushed as soon as he remembered the fact that no matter what happened, he was here to die.

"-aine? Is everything okay?" Kurt's face bore a troubled expression, his hand resting gingerly on Blaine's forehead.

"Sorry?"

"You sort of zoned out for a bit there when I was setting everything up... are you okay if we get this horrendous hair product out now?"

Blaine chuckled, nodding and leaning his neck in the small dip of the basin.

Kurt fiddled around for a few moments, and Blaine allowed his eyes to droop closed. There was something about Kurt's company that made him feel different from all the other people he'd so often had to associate with back in District 12.

Blaine gasped a little at the initial feel of warm water against his neck, relaxing as Kurt's hands began to loosen his hair from the prison of gel it had been immersed in. He hummed in contentment as Kurt's fingers massaged his scalp softly; sighing as they brushed gently through his natural curls.

"Your hair is beautiful." Kurt murmured.

Blaine didn't know what to say to that, so just pretended he hadn't heard it; he could have easily been asleep if he looked anywhere near as peaceful as he was feeling.

"So do you have a girlfriend back home?" Kurt enquired, his voice breaking the comfortable silence that had drifted between the two.

Blaine laughed in response; a sharp bark which caused Kurt to jump in surprise.

"Sorry, no I... I'm gay," Blaine chuckled, smiling slightly at the small 'oh' of surprise Kurt had made.

Kurt cleared his throat awkwardly, cursing himself for reacting the way he had.

"Oh, okay...me too."

"I guess we'll have to share stories sometime then," Blaine said with a grin, inwardly cursing himself for flirting; something that was very unlike him to do.

Kurt smiled softly, "I guess we will. How's your hair feeling?"

"Less plastered to my scalp, but still too short."

Kurt chuckled; running a hand through Blaine's soaked hair, twisting the curls softly.

"Well I don't think there's anything I can do to make it grow any faster, sorry, but we'll work with what we've got."

Blaine smiled up at Kurt, getting lost easily in the young man's fascinating eyes. He couldn't quite pick the colour they most resembled, but it didn't matter; they were simply beautiful.

"Alrighty, so I guess we should probably dress you now," Kurt began, leading Blaine to a separate room.

"I'm pretty excited about this year's costumes, I had the idea a few years back when I was still fairly new to the Capitol and we were made to watch the Tribute Parade. I just think that mining costumes are tacky and overdone, and ever since all those years ago, flaming costumes have become relatively popular too. I think the aspect Tina, my associate, and I collaborated on is going to make quite the impression."

Blaine grinned at how Kurt's passion was making him speak faster and faster.

"I'm sure they'll be great, I can't wait to see them." Blaine affirmed with a nod.

Kurt opened a thick door, leading Blaine over to a chair.

"Now we've just got to wait for the costumes to be delivered. Tina just had to add some final touches."

Blaine nodded, glancing out one of the many windows that lined the outer wall of the building.

"Kurt, can I ask you a question?"

Blaine's eyes widened. Had he really just said that? Now he'd have no choice but to ask one of the many questions that had been rattling around in his brain.

Kurt smiled, raising an eyebrow, "Go ahead."

"Well I ... ever since I got to the Capitol, I've noticed that heaps of people dress really extravagantly, and with colours that should probably not be legal, but your style is... different."

"I like to think my style is more refined," Kurt admitted with a chuckle, "I uh... there's a long story that I might tell you later, but I've pretty much always dressed like this. I'm different to most people I know, and fashion is just one of those ways. It's one of my ways of expressing who I am."

Blaine smiled; he admired how proud Kurt seemed to be of who he was.

He wasn't terribly sure what it was, but Blaine couldn't stop the giddy feeling that seemed to be overtaking his body. Kurt would smile at him and he'd get chills. Kurt's hand would brush against his as he pointed something out, and Blaine's skin would break out in goose-bumps.

He'd barely known Kurt two hours and he already had a ridiculous little crush. Blaine knew it was pointless, but he realised with shock, that for the first time in a long time, he actually felt happy.


	5. Chapter 5

Blaine glanced across at Kurt, who sat staring out of the window and down at the hustle and bustle of the Capitol below. Just as Blaine wondered if Kurt's lips felt as soft as they looked, the man in question turned to face him.

Blaine blushed, looking away hurriedly yet regretting it instantly at his lack of subtlety.

"I'm so sorry your name got pulled out." Kurt whispered, causing Blaine to turn and look at him once more. Nobody had said anything like that to him.

"I'm not."

Kurt's brow furrowed in confusion, "Why not?"

Blaine sighed, running a hand through his hair. Kurt smacked it away, "Leave it, it looks good," he murmured.

Blaine cleared his throat, "I... this is just an excuse for me to get out of District 12. Things were never really that great and I ... why am I telling you this? I'm sorry."

Blaine turned away, letting out a quiet huff of frustration. Kurt had some kind of effect that caused Blaine to lose his head. To let down the walls he had so painstakingly crafted.

"Blaine don't apologise, I-"

The door opened suddenly and Blaine turned to see Santana looking as exhausted as Blaine was sure he felt.

"Tina!" Kurt exclaimed, standing up and beaming at the girl who had walked in with Santana.

Kurt pulled Tina in for a quick hug before leading her over to where Blaine sat.

"Blaine, this is Tina, my dear friend and Santana's stylist. Tina, this is Blaine, District 12's finest!"

Santana nudged Blaine, who turned to her, an eyebrow raised.

"Mmmm?"

"So did you two get it on or something before Tina and I got here?"

Blaine gaped, "What are you trying to say here, Tana?"

"Oh please, he keeps smiling at you whenever he glances over and your hair looks like he's been running his hands through it."

Blaine blushed, slapping Santana gently on the arm.

"I was the one running a hand through my hair. I do it when I'm nervous. And he keeps looking at me because he's trying to work out how to make me look good."

"I'm pretty sure he thinks you look hot enough already..." Santana muttered, earning herself another slap.

"Besides, why were you nervous? Does _he_ make you nervous?" Santana enquired, smirking.

Blaine glared at her, "I hate you so much."

Santana snorted and rolled her eyes, leaning back in the chair.

"So do you think he's attractive?"

Blaine spluttered, "Santana! You don't just ask tha-" Santana was giving Blaine her 'look'.

"Yes. Yes he's very attractive. But I can't have this happen. I'm only going to die."

Santana sat up, pulling Blaine in for a quick hug. Kurt and Tina looked over at them and smiled.

"These two seem to be quite close," Tina remarked softly.

"Yeah. Blaine's a real charmer; it'd be hard to not get along with him."

Tina knocked her shoulder against Kurt's, a small smile quirking her lips.

Kurt met her twinkling gaze sadly.

"He's a Tribute, Tina. Nothing can happen, as much as I might want it to. Even if he managed to beat out the careers it's not like he'd ever spare someone like me a second look..."

Tina hugged Kurt tightly, "You've got it bad considering you've only known him a few hours. Not that I'm knocking that! I just... I want to say things but I don't want it to be too soon for me to say them."

Tina gave Kurt a deliberate look and he nodded in understanding, "I know..."

"Blaine, don't rule yourself out of the Games, you never know, you could win."

Blaine sighed at Santana's incessant encouragement, not permitting himself to speak. He was scared. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt like this, but now he was conflicted. He hardly knew Kurt, but he did know that he wanted to find out more about the gorgeous man.

"Okay, Blaine, Santana, it's time to get you two into your costumes for the Tribute parade."

Kurt and Tina led Blaine and Santana to a separate room where two suit bags hung on the wall.

Kurt unzipped one slightly, peering inside.

"Okay, Blaine, this one's yours. Let's head to the other room and have a look at how this fits you. It should be perfect, but you can never be too sure."

Blaine nodded, smiling briefly at Santana who shot him a quick wink. He rolled his eyes.

"Okay," Kurt began, unzipping the bag, "So like I said, normally the Tribute parade costumes are really tacky and repetitive and boring and I had this idea that just wouldn't leave and I... well, I'll just show you and see what you think..."

Blaine smiled eagerly, excited to see what Kurt had come up with, but knowing he'd wear whatever Kurt wanted him to.

Kurt pulled the zip down and Blaine gasped.

"Kurt, I ... that's incredible!"

Blaine walked up to the suit that hung in the bag, touching it reverently.

He turned to Kurt, a little confused.

"Don't get me wrong, this looks fantastic, but how exactly does this relate to coal mining?"

Blaine gestured to the silvery white suit, which shimmered and almost reflected the entire room. It had hard angles, which normally could have made such a suit look awkward and mismatched, but the way the light seemed to bounce off it did the suit complete justice. The obsidian shirt set off the ensemble nicely, contrasting against the luminescence of the whole outfit.

Kurt blushed at the praise, zipping the suit bag back up before turning back to Blaine.

"Well, I don't know how much you know about coal..."

Blaine laughed at Kurt's nonchalance, grinning at his obvious excitement to explain the mental processes he must have gone through to come up with the costume idea.

"I don't know all that much about coal, I tried to avoid the mines as much as I could..."

Kurt laughed, "I can understand that... it doesn't sound like a very thrilling occupation."

Blaine chuckled, "You could say that."

The pair stood grinning at each other for a few moments, neither noticing what they were doing, or remarking on the pleasantly peculiar feeling buzzing between them.

Blaine glanced down at his feet and Kurt cleared his throat, apparently changing his mind about zipping the bag back up, instead completely pulling it from the bag.

"Right, so, the suit. Okay. It's a pretty rare occurrence, but under the right conditions, usually at the core of the earth, coal can be turned to diamonds. It's never been done before, and I think this would help you guys stand out. Hopefully for the right reasons," Kurt added, smiling.

"I think the relationship you and Santana have is perfect for this as well. Two diamonds in the rough of District 12."

Blaine stood completely still, unable to move. How was this only Kurt's first time working for the Games? Blaine couldn't stop staring at the suit in front of him; it held him captivated with the way it seemed to both reflect and refract the light around it.

"This has got to be the closest thing to magic," Blaine breathed.

"Want to try it on?" Kurt asked, and grinned when Blaine's eyes lit up.

"Yes please!"

Blaine tore his shirt off before Kurt had a chance to look away, causing Kurt to gape at the other boy's well defined torso, his eyes raking over Blaine's sculpted abdomen. Blaine's stomach tensed as he threw the shirt, and Kurt fought to bite back what he knew would otherwise be an ungodly squawk, causing Blaine to glance up at him.

Kurt averted his eyes quickly, but not before several aged scars glinted at him from Blaine's abdomen. He didn't comment, deciding that their friendship, if that's what it was, wasn't quite at the point where they could talk about completely personal issues. That didn't stop the sight from breaking Kurt's heart; what on earth had Blaine been suffering through for so long?

"Oh, sorry Kurt... I was just kind of excited to get the suit on..."

Kurt smiled, "All good. I didn't see anything. Besides, I'm going to have to help you get into the costume."

Blaine didn't comment on how he didn't mind if Kurt had seen, he was used to his father telling him his shoulders weren't broad enough, that he was the runt of the family; he could handle whatever criticism Kurt had about his physique as well.

Blaine had been brought up being told that he would never be suited for working in the mines. Maximillion Anderson was sure to remind his youngest son frequently that he was scrawny. Weak.

Every reaping they would walk back to their house as a family, with Maximillion droning on and on incessantly about how Blaine lacked the general physique and skill level required by any Tribute.

"You're weak, Blaine. You couldn't throw a spear to save your life, and you aren't smart enough to get through by pure wits."

Blaine would zone out, nodding in agreance, never mentioning how he was relying on that lack of skill to get him out of the Games; to end his misery. Coming from anyone else, Blaine's sentiments would have been deemed selfish, but Blaine had no one who cared about him.

Shaking off the memories of District 12, Blaine turned shyly to Kurt, cheeks flushing deep red.

"Pants too, right?"

Kurt blushed as well, "Yeah, pants too."

Blaine faced the wall self-consciously as he slipped his belt off. His shaking fingers fumbled with the button on his pants for a moment, but then he was sliding those off too. Kurt's breath hitched; Blaine was like no other male he'd ever seen. His legs were strong and muscular, and as lean as the rest of his body.

Blaine turned around slowly, fiddling with the hem of his boxer-briefs, "I can leave these on, right?"

Kurt's eyes almost bugged out of his skull at the mental image, and he fought to maintain even breathing, "Yeah, keep them on."

Kurt turned back to where the garment bag hung, muttering under his breath, '_God Kurt, calm down. He's a Tribute. You can't get involved with him, as much as you might like to..._'

Kurt slipped the dark black shirt off its hanger and walked over to Blaine, unable to contain his excitement any more.

"You're looking forward to this, aren't you Kurt?"

Kurt beamed, cheeks faintly pink, "Sorry, I just... I haven't seen it on a real person yet, let alone you. I'm just hoping the whole thing manages to 'work.'"

"I'm sure it will; it's perfect," Blaine murmured, slipping one arm into a sleeve, allowing Kurt to button up the cuff before slipping the other sleeve on. Kurt brushed a hand over Blaine's shoulders, under the guise of getting rid of any dust, when in reality he was dying to know if Blaine was as strong as he looked.

"You're really tense," Kurt muttered before he could stop himself, cursing the fact that his filter seemed to have disappeared now that Blaine had arrived.

Blaine just chuckled in response, rolling his shoulders a little.

Kurt pulled his hand away gingerly, tugging gently on Blaine's arm so that he was facing Kurt. Blaine closed his eyes as Kurt began buttoning up his shirt, willing himself to say what he'd been holding back on. He didn't want to say it, but he thought Kurt deserved an explanation after how much effort he had gone to. He wasn't going to have much longer to live with any consequences anyhow.

"Kurt, I just... I wanted to say... I'm sorry."

Kurt's hands stilled and he looked at Blaine, who had opened his eyes and was staring sadly into Kurt's concerned gaze.

"What's wrong, Blaine?"

"I'm going to die, and you've gone to all this effort, and I'm sorry because you seem like such a wonderful person."

"You don't know that. You could win." Kurt said soothingly, but Blaine smiled wryly.

"It never used to bother me, this concept of dying, but now I'd feel bad because I have someone I want to be proud of me."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked, stomach fluttering in anticipation as he waited for Blaine to answer.

"There's nothing for me in District 12. Nobody would care if I won or died. But now I... ugh, don't worry, it's stupid, I'm stupid."

"Don't say that Blaine, you're a wonderful person. I haven't known you very long but I really like you, I think you're a great guy. Which sucks because you're going to be put through hell soon, but I really want you to come out the other end."

Blaine's jaw dropped.

"You do?"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you all so much for all the reviews I've received on this! Sorry if I haven't replied yet, this site doesn't like me very much at the moment.**

**I hope you guys enjoyed the last chapter; I was really curious to know what you thought of the Tribute Parade costume/suit thing I described! I'd show you a picture of it but there isn't one but maybe I'll work on that.**

**Anyhow, I hope you like this one. I'm just wanted to thank those people that keep me motivated to write this when I just can't think of where to go. They know who they are.**

**Also shout out to DorkyDuck09 and BloodRedLust. Check 'em out!**

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><p>"<em>Don't say that Blaine, you're a wonderful person. I haven't known you very long but I really like you, I think you're a great guy. Which sucks because you're going to be put through hell soon, but I really want you to come out the other end."<em>

_Blaine's jaw dropped._

"_You do?"_

* * *

><p>Kurt pursed his lips, trying to work out how best to tell Blaine at least a small portion of what he felt. Slowly, he nodded.<p>

"Blaine, I... I like to think I'm a pretty good judge of character. My father, Burt, is amazing at being able to tell what kind of person someone is just by talking to them for a short amount of time. I've lived with him for so long I guess it rubbed off on me. You spend a lot of time with your father when your mother passes away and you have no friends."

"I'm so sorry," Blaine murmured, his eyes locking with Kurt's.

Kurt smiled faintly, "It doesn't really bother me that I didn't really have any friends. I've got Tina now, and I like to think we're...sort of...y'know" Kurt trailed off, looking down.

Blaine froze; all thoughts of Kurt's lonely childhood completely banished from his mind. Kurt wanted to be his friend? Kurt who he'd barely known for a few hours, yet Blaine still had a silly little crush on? Blaine who would probably be dead in less than a month?

Thoughts flitted through Blaine's brain; his train of thought quickly winding its way to wonder what might happen if Kurt reciprocated his feelings. Which was a completely ridiculous thing to think about, or so Blaine had been repeatedly telling himself since he first saw the blue-eyed boy.

Blaine closed his eyes, smiling faintly at the idea of finally having a friend. He'd only have Kurt for a short while, but he figured that anything was better than no time at all. At least he could die having had romantic feelings towards someone, even if they weren't reciprocated. It was nice to have the feeling of something other than misery coursing through his veins.

Kurt gazed at Blaine, who seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. He let out a barely audible sigh as Blaine's beautiful hazel eyes flickered closed, those long lashes resting against the top of his cheeks.

Blaine was gorgeous. In all of Kurt's time in the Capitol, which, granted, was only a few years, he'd never met anyone as incredible as Blaine, both in looks and personality. Kurt was concerned with how certain the boy was that he was going to die, but at the same time he knew he would do the same. It must be easier to face the Games this way, Kurt decided, consoling yourself with the fact that you didn't have long, rather than having to think about people you'd be leaving behind.

Kurt shuddered at the thought of leaving Burt. Sure, his father would still have Carole and Finn, Kurt's step-mother and brother, but Kurt already knew what his father had gone through losing his first wife, Kurt's mother. Surely losing a child couldn't be any easier.

Kurt glanced at Blaine's face; sighing sadly at the way the soft, yet still present, creases lined his forehead, something tragic to behold on someone so young. Kurt couldn't help but wonder what Blaine had gone through.

The thought of a world without Blaine filled Kurt with some weird emotion he couldn't quite place. He hadn't known Blaine for long, but he felt like there was something there; it was almost tangible. His chest seemed to ache at the prospect of Blaine dying in the arena, of being subjected to the trials of the Games.

Kurt wasn't usually impulsive, and he honestly had no clue what was rushing through his mind as he leaned slightly closer to Blaine, hands still loosely clutching at the hem of Blaine's shirt. He realised with a slight blush that Blaine was still wearing nothing other than his shirt and underwear, but his main focus was the sombre thought that Blaine wasn't going to be in his company for very much longer. Kurt was sick of living by rules, sick of being confined to what the Capitol told him he was and was not permitted to do with the Tributes. Hell, if word of what he was about to do made it to public knowledge, he'd happily enter the Games Arena as penance. It wouldn't be punishment, merely Kurt being able to spend more time with Blaine before what Blaine considered to be his inevitable death.

Kurt was scared of what he was about to do. Terrified, even. He _never_ did this kind of thing. Hell, Blaine would probably slap him away, glare at him, run out of the room. He didn't care anymore. Taking a deep breath, Kurt leant forward.

The feeling of a soft pair of lips on his own caused Blaine to gasp, eyes flying open. Kurt was... _kissing him?_ His stomach seemed to swoop, and his brain felt like it had turned to mush. Kurt stepped back abruptly, hand flying to his mouth, and Blaine's heart sunk in his chest. It was over so soon?

"I'm so sorry Blaine, I-"

Blaine placed a finger over Kurt's lips, his mouth twitching upwards at the corners.

"Kurt. Why did you kiss me?" Blaine's eyes were alight, but he couldn't help the feeling that maybe he'd imagined it. Maybe Kurt had overbalanced and landed on his face?

Kurt flushed a deep red, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves.

"Blaine, I'm... well, I'm... you're very attractive!" He burst out, crimson cheeks flaming, averting Blaine's gaze.

Blaine felt giddy. Kurt thought he was attractive? He was _attracted_ to Blaine? He didn't find him repulsive or a waste of time like so many others had? Blaine felt light-headed at the thought. He beamed at Kurt, taking a steadying breath.

"Well, you're not so bad yourself."

Kurt flushed scarlet, eyes ducking to the ground as he muttered something.

"What was that?" Blaine asked, tilting Kurt's head up gently with his index finger.

"I said thank you, but not really."

Blaine's eyes searched Kurt's, "How can you not see yourself as how beautiful you are? You're gorgeous Kurt, hell, do you know how hard it's been to contain myself these last few hours since I first met you? God…"

Kurt's blush did nothing if not deepen, and Blaine paled upon the realisation of what he'd just said.

"You thought I was attractive as soon as you saw me?"

Blaine chuckled, "Of course I did. I got a bit worried when I saw how much of a wonderful person you really are. I know it hasn't been long Kurt, I know it's ridiculous, and that I'll probably be dead soon-"

"Don't say that," Kurt interjected, eyes wide and teary.

"Regardless, I know this is a really foolish thing to say but... IthinkI'mfallingforyou."

"Sorry, I missed that," Kurt admitted, eyes still awash with concern.

"I think… I think I'm falling for, uh… you."

* * *

><p>There. He'd said it. No longer was Blaine the reserved, meek, self-conscious boy from District 12. He felt so liberated at his admittance, yet still a little worried at what Kurt would have to say.<p>

He didn't have much of a chance to think about that, however, as Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck, pulling him in for a much more intense kiss.

Blaine's eyes fluttered shut, giving himself over completely to the feeling of Kurt enveloping him in his embrace. It had been so long since anyone had made such a gesture towards him, other than Santana, but Blaine figured those were as much for her as they were for him.

Kurt's tongue darted softly across Blaine's lower lip, and Blaine opened his mouth slightly to allow Kurt in. Well this was… definitely new.

Blaine had never been kissed. He'd often wondered what it was like, wondered if he'd ever get to have the experience or if he was destined to be alone forever. That wasn't the case anymore, however 'forever' didn't seem to be a very long time to Blaine anymore. A few weeks at most.

Blaine pulled away hurriedly, regretting it as soon as he saw the look on Kurt's face.

"I'm sorry Kurt, I just… I don't know how to feel, knowing that whatever this," he gestured between them, "is, it's not going to last much longer. I'm going to die soon, Kurt, and I really, really like you, but I don't want to think of you being sad when that cannon goes off. When my name is screened in the sky. When my body is hauled off, taken God-knows-where. The thought of you upset drives me insane. You're too good a person to be put through any of that."

Kurt stared at Blaine, mouth slightly agape as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"You really don't have much belief in yourself, do you?"

Blaine sighed, rubbing at his eyes, "It's hard to when I know I'm some runty kid from District 12. I have no skills, I don't know how the hell I'm going to defend myself. I won't last."

Kurt pulled Blaine in for a hug, "Blaine, I really like you, let's just see what happens. At the moment, I think we need each other."

Blaine tried to be reluctant as he wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist, instead breathing in the welcoming scent of jasmine. Kurt chuckled as Blaine almost purred when Kurt ran his fingers gently through Blaine's short curls, resting his hands so that they cupped the back of Blaine's neck.

"Kurt, I just…" Kurt placed a finger softly to Blaine's lips, effectively silencing the boy. He glanced to his wrist quickly, studying the time.

"Shoot, you've got to be ready to head down to the parade soon. Let's get you dressed."

Blaine chuckled, "Yeah, I don't think a black shirt and boxer briefs would be the best outfit for the tribute parade."

"Blaine, it's not black, it's obsidian. Darker than black."

Blaine fought to hide a smile, rather unsuccessfully, "Okay, an obsidian shirt and boxer briefs then."

Kurt giggled, "I'd rather see you in them than the male tribute from District 2."

Blaine snorted at that, knowing that when he saw the tribute he wouldn't be able to help but envision him as thus.

"I can't wait to see how much everyone loves this suit, Kurt. It's incredible. You're amazing."

Being brave, or acting on impulse, Blaine wasn't too sure; he leant in and pressed a quick kiss to Kurt's lips, taking the other boy by surprise.

"This feels nice," Kurt hummed, tilting his head and deepening the kiss, before remembering that he was, first and foremost, Blaine's stylist. He pulled back, biting down on his lip as he eyed Blaine.

"We should stop making out and actually get you ready to take the Capitol by storm," Kurt muttered, turning away to pull Blaine's suit pants from the bag.

He undid the zipper and button, holding them out for Blaine to step into. Blaine's hands came to rest on Kurt's shoulders, maintaining his balance as he slipped the pants on, tucking in his shirt before fumbling with the zip and button.

"Oh Blaine, they fit you perfectly," Kurt breathed, especially pleased with the way the material seemed to fall in all the right ways.

Blaine beamed at Kurt, "See, you're amazing!" He exclaimed, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.

"Can I put the jacket on now?" Blaine whined, eyeing the crisp looking suit jacket with sheer desire written all over his face.

"I guess that would be okay," Kurt said simply, trying to fight the broad grin that was now plastered to his face, "And then I guess it's time to meet up with Santana and Tina and get to the parade preparation."

"Where we're going to kick ass!" Blaine crowed, his spirits significantly lifted in comparison to how he'd been feeling less than ten hours ago.

Kurt smiled at Blaine's energy. Maybe if he had this much passion in the Arena, he could survive. Kurt could only hope.

He turned to Blaine, eyes alight, "Let's hope so."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: felt like time for an update (I should probably work out some sort of schedule, but life is hectic). I'm not sure when the next update will be as it's coming to that time of semester when assessment is piling up, as well as my acquisition of two new jobs. Yay.**

Disclaimer: Don't own Glee, the Hunger Games or any related characters/places/names etc etc yeah.

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><p>Blaine stood next to Santana, trying to hide his discomfort upon seeing the other tributes for the first time. While everyone else was trying to look intimidating and imposing, Blaine and Santana were happy to fade into the background, sticking together and waiting quietly for them to be instructed to mount their chariot.<p>

He'd finally spotted David Karofsky, the male tribute from District Two, and tried to hold back his laughter at remembering the mental image Kurt had planted in his mind of boxer-briefs and a black shirt. As it was, his costume wasn't the most elegant, or flattering, and Blaine considered himself lucky to have had Kurt as his stylist, for apparently more reasons than one. Upon seeing Blaine's smirk, Karofsky had glared at him, sneering slightly before turning his back.

Blaine shook his head slightly in disbelief at the other tribute's snide behaviour, turning back to Santana.

Santana leaned in towards Blaine, smiling faintly.

"So, what was it like?"

Blaine turned to Santana, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"What?"

"You and Kurt totally made out! I could tell. I'm happy for you."

Blaine rolled his eyes good naturedly at Santana, before leaning his head against the wall with a heavy sigh, "Yeah, we did, and it was great, but I…" Blaine muttered something and Santana cocked an eyebrow.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that?"

"I'm scared, San. I really like him, and I'd really like to get to know him more, but it's not exactly a possibility anymore. I don't know what to do."

Santana rested her head on Blaine's shoulder, holding his hand softly.

"Let's just take each day as it comes and see where it takes the two of you."

Kurt wandered over to the pair, Tina hanging back to talk to what was presumably another stylist.

"You two look absolutely fantastic, if I do say so myself!" Kurt gushed, adjusting Blaine's lapel slightly, offering the tribute a warm smile.

"Kurt, this dress is absolutely gorgeous, you and Tina did such an amazing job," Santana said, flashing her pearly teeth at him in a broad smile.

Blaine nearly passed out in shock; that had to be one of the first times he'd heard Santana give someone else a compliment. He shot her a look, as though to ask her what her game was.

"What?" She hissed, elbowing him, "I've got to be nice to your boyfriend, don't I?"

Kurt heard the exchange, blushing along with Blaine and muttering simultaneously something along the lines of 'not boyfriends', as much as it was obvious they both wanted to be.

Blaine had to agree with Santana about her dress, however. It was made of a similar material to Blaine's suit, clinging to her body until just above her knees, where the fabric fell naturally. If he was heterosexual, Blaine was sure he'd find Santana irresistible in the dress, but as it was, he was having a hard time paying attention to her when Kurt stood less than a meter away from him. Blaine longed to reach out and just take Kurt's hand, pull him in for a hug... or maybe _more_.

Truth be told, Blaine was nervous as hell. He and Santana were to be presented, along with the other tributes, when really he'd prefer nothing more than to go back to their apartment and get to know Kurt a little better. The concept of being projected onto a screen in front of all of Panem absolutely terrified him.

Just as these thoughts were crossing Blaine's mind, Kurt reached out and brushed a hand gently along Blaine's shoulder. The small gesture made him feel slightly better, and he smiled faintly at Kurt.

"Watch it, lady!" Kurt lurched forward into Blaine, having been pushed to the side by one of the tributes.

Blaine recognised him as David Karofsky, and his blood ran cold. The District Two Career seemed all brawn and no brain. Brains weren't always imperative in the Games, though, and the thought of competing against him sent a shiver down Blaine's spine. Blaine adored Kurt, but at the same time, meeting Kurt had completely thrown all of his plans out the window.

He knew it was probably too soon to be thinking the way he was, but there was no doubt in Blaine's mind that Kurt meant _something_ to him. So much so, that Blaine was actually beginning to feel like he might contemplate putting up a fight if somebody had him cornered in the Arena. It made him feel so vulnerable now, to know there was someone hoping for him to come out the other end. To know he had a reason to live.

Blaine tried to be optimistic about that thought, but David Karofsky had crushed any semblance of optimism he'd managed to establish. Blaine forgot about Karofsky for a moment though, finally remembering Kurt in his arms.

The young stylist was trembling, hands hanging limp around Blaine's waist, as though he just didn't know what to do with them. Blaine would have felt awkward were it not for how furious he was. Kurt was an amazing person, so talented and considerate, two qualities that didn't often work well together. Instead of going after Karofsky, Blaine pulled Kurt closer, murmuring softly into his ear, "Let's go find somewhere quiet until the parade starts."

Kurt pulled back, wiping at his eyes and nodding. With a small smile, Blaine wove his way through the chariots and horses, towards a small side-corridor.

Blaine leant against the wall, sliding down and gesturing for Kurt to join him. Kurt muttered something about Blaine ruining his costume, but Blaine just smiled, "I checked the floor was clean before I sat. You can sit on my lap if you really want to, so you don't ruin your suit."

Kurt blushed, however perched carefully on Blaine's knee. Blaine pulled him in tight, and Kurt nestled his head in the crook of Blaine's neck.

"That Career, Karofsky, seems like a douche," Blaine muttered, causing Kurt to smile weakly.

"You could say that," He whispered in reply.

"I'm not going to let him get away with what he called you, Kurt. I feel almost inhuman for saying this, but he'll get what's coming to him. I just can't do anything before the Games," Blaine said, chuckling humourlessly.

Kurt sighed wearily, sniffling a little.

"Kurt, what's wrong?"

Kurt clenched and unclenched his fists, squeezing his eyes shut.

"This wasn't meant to happen anymore," He whispered. He sounded broken. Defeated.

"What do you mean?"

Kurt took a deep breath. He'd never told anyone this. Not even Tina. So much had happened to him in nineteen years, and he'd tried so hard to forget all of the horrible things, but they just seemed to follow him.

"I, uh... well I haven't always lived here, in the Capitol."

"Oh?" Blaine asked, his curiosity certainly heightened.

"I moved here when I was about thirteen. My mother passed away when I was eight, and it was tough on both my Dad and I. She had a twin brother though, my Uncle Nicky, and he took it pretty hard too. I know I would if my brother or sister had died. But he didn't exactly have an easy life either.

"Anyhow, growing up in my District wasn't exactly easy. People generally just weren't very accepting of who I was. Of who I am. I'm so lucky to have the father I do. I don't know what I'd have done if he hadn't been as supportive of me as he is.

"Things got really bad when I was about twelve. I'd walk home from school and people would be waiting to trip me up in the mud, or throw things at me. They'd call me names, like 'lady', and 'fag', just because I wasn't attracted to girls like they were. And we were only twelve, for crying out loud! I mean, don't get me wrong, I knew who I was, I was fairly sure I was gay, but how could you call someone those kinds of words and actually know what connotations they carry?

"I'm sure it was their parents who had influenced them, and my father certainly didn't have it easy either. He was employed as a maintenance worker, for all the mechanical things in our district, which there wasn't actually a whole heap of. As a result, we didn't have a whole heap of money. My father would often hold me as I fell asleep on his lap, promising me things would get better. He'd started to notice the bruises I was getting, and it made him furious, but there was nothing we could do. I was required to go to school, and he had to work. The teachers didn't care. No one cared.

"And then my Dad met Carole. She was the first person to really make my dad smile after my Mom passed away. We rarely got to talk to Uncle Nicky because he lived a fair way away from us, but sometimes we'd get correspondence.

"Carole had a son Finn, and her husband had been killed in an accident whilst he was working. They fit in well with the dynamic Dad and I had, and soon we were like any other family. A year passed, and while things at school hadn't improved, if anything they had gotten worse, home definitely felt more... homely.

"And then Dad got a letter from Uncle Nicky. See, I don't think I mentioned this, but Uncle Nicky was a past Games champion. He had money. And when he heard about what I was going through in school, he was furious. Uncle Nicky managed to get passage for me and my Dad out of the District and to the Capitol, where we'd been told people were more open minded, less pig-headed. Dad and I were both reluctant to leave Carole and Finn; however Carole was adamant that we go.

Dad promised that he'd get the two of them out too. It was something that didn't happen to many people, and took a lot of coercing, and regrettably, bribery, but Carole and Finn joined us shortly after my fourteenth birthday."

Kurt slumped back against Blaine, his eyes fluttering closed.

"When that Career called me that, I just... it brought it all back. I thought I'd managed to get away from it, I thought my life was rid of all those awful people, but they're still around Blaine. You'd think for someone so close to the Capitol as District Two they'd be more civilised, but I guess that's not the case."

Blaine nodded, rubbing Kurt's back gently as he pressed a kiss to the young man's temple.

"So, do you still hear from your Uncle Nicky?" Blaine asked softly, twining his fingers with Kurt's, fairly certain he already knew the answer.

Kurt blushed, averting Blaine's knowing look.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, I just... I rarely tell people these things, and Blaine, I may not be certain of much, but I'm certain I want to see you alive for quite some time. I'm certain you're one of those rare people who've waltzed into my life and changed it forever... District Twelve is the part of my life that I've tried to leave behind, but I guess it keeps catching up to me, doesn't it?"

"What about your Uncle Nicky, Kurt?" Blaine insisted, poking Kurt's side as he grinned.

Kurt met Blaine's eyes, squeezing Blaine's hand faintly.

"Well as I'm fairly able to tell you've worked out, he's your trainer."

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><p><strong>AN: so I figured it was time to tell you some of what I have going on in my head. Please let me know what you thought!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I am a horrible person for taking so long. To be honest, lots of family stuff has been going on and they tend to come first, so sorry, but I had to prioritise (gasp).**

**This chapter is for Emily because she's great. **

Disclaimer: Don't own Glee, The Hunger Games or any associated characters. Sigh.

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><p><em>"What about your Uncle Nicky, Kurt?" Blaine insisted, poking Kurt's side as he grinned.<em>

_Kurt met Blaine's eyes, squeezing Blaine's hand faintly._

_"Well as I'm fairly able to tell you've worked out, he's your trainer."_

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><p>Blaine smiled guiltily at Kurt.<p>

"I'm sorry, but he tells some of the _worst_ stories I've ever heard. Do you know how many times I heard about him winning the Games on the train here? Twelve, Kurt. _Twelve_."

Blaine's eyes had widened comically and Kurt couldn't suppress his laughter. Kurt pushed himself up from the ground, reaching for Blaine's hand and pulling him close. Blaine's hazel eyes sparkled, glancing to Kurt's lips before darting away sheepishly.

"You can kiss me," Kurt whispered, his breath ghosting over Blaine's face. Blaine's gaze came back to Kurt's face – his gorgeous eyes, those stunning cheekbones. That _amazing_ mouth.

Blaine licked his lips, trying to ignore the frantic racing of his heart. It wasn't that he didn't want to kiss Kurt. Not at all. Blaine was worried that if his lips met Kurt's, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from doing... _other_ things.

"Kurt I... I don't think I should," Blaine muttered, looking away shyly.

Kurt frowned; hurt flitting across his face as he muttered a soft 'oh'.

"Not because I don't want to Kurt, God, I really want to I just... probably not the best idea, right uh, right now."

Kurt's nose scrunched up in his confusion and Blaine took his hand.

"Look Kurt, you're amazing, I just don't want the entire Capitol to see how much I like you... if you get what I mean," Blaine murmured, meeting Kurt's eyes with a cheeky smirk.

Kurt blushed, cheeks flushing red as everything Blaine had said finally made sense.

"Oh... right, I guess you're probably right. Maybe later then," Kurt retorted, winking before turning to slink back to where all the other tributes were waiting.

Blaine sighed. Kurt was really something.

* * *

><p>Blaine stood uneasily as they waited in the District Twelve chariot, Santana's small hand gripped tightly in his own. The parade would start soon and all of the Tributes would be presented to the Capitol.<p>

"What's your problem?" Santana hissed, wriggling her fingers in an effort to regain some feeling in them.

"Sorry, I just... I'm really nervous. I want us to make a good first impression."

Santana smirked, "So that Kurt guy's really got you good, huh."

Blaine's heart stopped, "What?"

"Blaine, the way you've changed your mind so drastically in less than a day is nothing short of astounding. Now it's like you're actually _trying_."

Blaine's brow furrowed as he tried to think of the safest way to respond to Santana's statement.

A booming voice echoed around them, and the District One chariot, vaguely visible in the distance, began to roll.

Santana flashed Blaine a quick smile, "Well this is it."

Blaine gripped Santana's hand tighter, returning her smile weakly, before turning to face the cavernous opening of the entryway. He could hear the thunderous roar of the audience, their combined applause and chatter deafening him. Blaine wondered briefly if anybody in the Capitol actually realised that fairly soon most of the youths they were applauding and cheering on would be dead; slaughtered purely for their entertainment.

For so long this competition had been running, and people just accepted it. Blaine hated how desensitized the people of Panem had become to the death of their district's youths.

"Blaine, you look like someone's shoved a sword up your ass, smile!" Santana hissed through gritted teeth, interrupting Blaine's train of thought, "And I know you'd rather you had Kurt's cock up there but Bl-"

"OKAY Santana I think you've said enough. Please be quiet."

"-aine, not every-"

"Seriously, shut up. Just please stop talking. Now."

Blaine's blush dominated him entirely to the point that he was worried his suit might actually begin flaming soon.

"Stand up properly, shorty, we're nearly there and we've got to make a good impression on the Sponsors."

Blaine rolled his eyes, pulling his shoulders back and flashing his surprisingly pearly white teeth at the crazed crowd.

Santana squeezed his hand slightly, "That's the spirit, gotta make Kurtsie proud of us, don't we?"

Blaine didn't dignify her comment with a response, exhaling in relief when the chariots finally slowed to a stop at the other end of the parade strip.

Kurt bustled over from where he'd been waiting nervously, a broad grin nearly splitting his face in half.

"You guys looked so awesome!" He cried, pulling Santana and Blaine in on either side for a hug as they stumbled down from the chariot.

Blaine's heart raced with Kurt's sudden close proximity; his senses suddenly overcome with the desire to just be with Kurt. Preferably alone.

Blaine tilted his head to murmur something in Kurt's ear, when the three of them were pushed forward by a hulking figure as it waddled past, "Look out, homos."

Blaine's blood ran cold. It was that damn District Two tribute again.

Blaine made to chase after Karofsky's massive form, but Kurt pulled him back.

"Blaine, don't, just leave it," Kurt muttered, rubbing Blaine's back gently in an effort to soothe him.

"Kurt, he can't just talk to us like that. Any of us. Just because Santana and I are from District 12 he thinks he's better than us. He thinks that because you're gay that he's better than you, but he's not Kurt! You're so much more of a man than he can even think of being."

Karofsky trotted past again, his stylist trailing miserably behind as she tried to remove his headdress.

"Are you all fairies in District Twelve? Wait, which of you is the stylist, ladyboys? Kinda hard to tell since you're all trailing fairy dust!" He spat, pulling a rather unattractive face.

Blaine tried to suppress a snarl as Kurt held him back desperately.

"Kurt, I can't just... ugh, just let me go!"

"Blaine, it's not that hard for me to get used to again, just leave it. Besides, remember you can't get involved with other tributes before the Games"

"Kurt, don't you understand, you shouldn't _have_ to get used to it! That guy's a complete douche bag, please let me sort him out! I don't care about the Games!"

"Blaine, if you 'sort him out', you're going to get _disqualified_ from the Games. You'll become an Avox or something, I don't even know, just please, it's not worth it."

Blaine sighed resignedly, crossing his arms and leaning into the cool of the wall.

"It is worth it though, he's a fucking lunatic. The world would be a better place without him." Blaine muttered, huffing in annoyance.

"It's sweet that you want to protect me, Blaine, but you'll get him in the Arena, I just know it." Kurt murmured, leaning against the wall next to Blaine.

"You and Santana looked absolutely incredible, by the way, if I may say so myself," Kurt added, smiling and nudging Blaine playfully.

"We only looked incredible because _you're_ incredible, Kurt."

Kurt blushed, beaming at Blaine. He glanced around, happy in his assessment that there was nobody around anymore, before pressing his lips softly to Blaine's.

Blaine hummed happily, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist and tugging him so that Kurt was flush against Blaine's chest.

"I really shouldn't have kissed you here, anyone could walk past..." Kurt muttered against Blaine's forehead as the other boy kissed his way down Kurt's neck, causing him to gasp.

"Blaine... I... your apartment? It'll look less weird if I'm there, we can just be...ah, uh, working on an outfit, hnnngh I - stop that, I can't think!"

Blaine pulled back, eyes twinkling mischievously.

"My apartment is sounding _very_ good right about now."

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><p>Blaine could have sworn time had never travelled more slowly than when he was in the shuttle back to the Tribute apartment building with Kurt. The sexual tension was palpable, and the two boys kept exchanging sly, occasionally self conscious, looks.<p>

"Are there cameras in here?" Blaine muttered as they stumbled into the elevator, already slightly dishevelled from a discreet make-out session in a small alcove.

"Don't know, don't care," Kurt gasped, pulling Blaine against him and practically attacking his shirt, popping buttons. One came off completely and Blaine made to pick it up, "Don't, just leave it, I'll get a new one sewn on tomorrow, don't care," Kurt muttered, whining as Blaine pressed his lips to Kurt's jaw line, travelling down his neck.

"Don't you think we're moving a little fast?" Blaine asked half-heartedly, pulling back from trailing kisses along Kurt's collarbone, making no effort to stop Kurt whatsoever.

Kurt paused, looking at Blaine, his hands twisted in Blaine's suit shirt, "Really? You're asking me that-", he gestured to their levels of debauchery, "-now? God your timing _sucks_!"

Blaine smiled sheepishly, "I'm sorry, I just don't want to force you into anything or whatever, and I don't want to make you feel obliged to do anything. I mean, yeah, I really like you, but I'm-"

Kurt silenced Blaine's ramblings with a fierce kiss.

"Blaine, you're not _forcing_ me into anything. You're an incredibly wonderful guy, from what I've seen so far, and you're also extremely attractive, which helps," Kurt added, as an afterthought.

Blaine laughed at that, pulling Kurt close once more, "You're not so bad yourself. I'm rather glad I got a designer as talented, and gorgeous, and wonderful as you." Blaine stated, kissing Kurt lightly all over his face.

The elevator stopped with a soft _ding_, and Kurt and Blaine ambled out, trying to avoid Santana's smirk, and equally intrusive leer.

"Evening, boys!" She chimed, slinking off to her room.

"Oh, and Nicholas, Fiona and Tina won't be back for a bit. Something... _happened_."

Blaine blushed furiously, glaring at Santana.

"Oh, quit looking at me like that, Hobbit. Like you weren't going to drag Kurt to your room and do the dirty with him."

"Did you just say you had plans for this evening, Santana?" Kurt enquired innocently, pulling Blaine gently towards his bedroom.

Santana rolled her eyes, "I don't want to stay around here and listen to you two getting it on, I'm going to find something better to do."

Blaine chuckled, whipping around Kurt to pull the door open.

"I thought she'd never leave."

Kurt laughed breathily, closing the door behind him before turning to Blaine's bed.

"God Blaine!" He exclaimed, "That thing is huge!"

Blaine smirked, "Well it does the job. I mean sure, it could be smaller, but then this wouldn't be nearly as much fun!"

"Ooft!" Kurt muttered, pinned under Blaine's dense form having been jumped on.

Kurt rolled over so that he was on top of Blaine, smirking down at him.

"So you mean to tell me, when you're here, by yourself, you jump on this freaking huge bed?"

Blaine nodded enthusiastically, eyes wide.

"I mean, I haven't been here for very long, I think this is the second time I've been in this room – it's better now that you're here, by the way, but yes, I plan on jumping on this bed quite a bit."

Kurt chuckled, running a hand through Blaine's thick curls.

"Well, there's no time like the present," He murmured, pressing his lips hard against Blaine's as his hands travelled further south, causing the other boy to whine.

"Kurt, don't start something you can't... finish." Blaine panted, trying to stay calm.

"Now who said I was planning on doing that?"

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><p><strong>AN: Aaargh I'm a little nervous about this chapter, I hope you guys like it. Also um... what are your guys' thoughts on how the next chapter should start in regards to how this one finished? If you know what I mean.**

**Aaaand just a quick huge thank you to all of those people who reviewed and alerted and such, it really made these awful two weeks a bit more bearable :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Again, apologies, sh-tuff got in the way once more, but here, have a chapter! Thank you so much for all of your kind reviews, I can't believe how close this story is to 50. I've started uploading this to scarvesandcoffee too since authors I know and love have had their stories removed from this site for having *cough* mature content and such. Those of you who read BloodRedLust (my awesome beta)'s stories, she is now here under BloodRedLost (she had to change her name) and is now also on ArchiveOfOurOwn dot org.**

**ALSO this chapter contains content I don't normally write. Whilst it's not in any means 'heavy' or whatever, your opinion would still be much appreciated.**

**Sorry for the long A/N, that stuff just needed to be said.**

Disclaimer: Don't own Glee or the Hunger Games or any associated names etc. Yeah.

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><p>Kurt pushed Blaine back up against the door, slamming into it so that if there was any doubt of it being closed before, it was certainly gone now. He ripped the black shirt from Blaine's arms and moaned softly as Blaine curled one hand around Kurt's waist, the touch of his rough hands on Kurt's skin sending shivers up his spine.<p>

"Kurt I-" Blaine began, before he was silenced once more by Kurt's soft lips meeting his. Blaine fought to bite back a groan as Kurt palmed him roughly through his slacks.

"You should get out of those before we ruin them," Kurt said, smirking.

Blaine whimpered as Kurt reached for his belt buckle, unclasping it before pulling it from the loops agonisingly slowly before dragging Blaine's silky pants down, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of Blaine's boxer-briefs.

"Is this okay?" Kurt asked softly, glancing up at Blaine and almost losing his breath with how incredible Blaine's eyes looked; his pupils were dilated to the point that there was only a slim rim of hazel indicating there was ever any colour there.

Blaine swallowed thickly, tugging Kurt's shirt off his shoulders and pulling his undershirt up gently, his gaze lingering on Kurt's perfectly toned abdomen. Blaine couldn't help but hold his breath as he pushed Kurt's pants down slowly, marvelling at how someone could be so incredibly human, yet have the physique of a god.

Both boys stood somewhat awkwardly, taking the other in. Although Kurt had seen Blaine in the level of undress he currently sported, the mutual 'almost-nakedness' was something new for both of them. Something they'd never experienced before. Blaine tried to stop the blush from rising to his cheeks when he realised that certain parts of his body were responding, uh, rather well, to seeing Kurt the way he was, however he noticed Kurt seemed to be having similar issues.

The sight of Kurt standing in front of him, wearing practically nothing, momentarily delayed Blaine's brain function to the point that he did nothing but gape at how defined Kurt's body was. Kurt cleared his throat self-consciously, causing Blaine to flick his gaze back up from where he'd been eyeing Kurt's lower half, almost hungrily.

Blaine reached out and pulled Kurt close, inhaling sharply at the feeling of their chests resting together. Kurt nestled his head in the crook where Blaine's neck met his shoulder, winding his arms around his waist.

Blaine hummed in contentment, tilting his head to bury his face in Kurt's hair.

"Well this is strangely intimate considering we were practically ripping each other's clothes off before," Kurt mumbled into the crook of Blaine's neck.

Blaine chuckled, tilting his head back and lifting Kurt's chin so he could kiss the other boy softly.

"I don't care what we do, as long as I get to spend time with you."'

Kurt laughed breathily, tugging Blaine toward the massive bed.

The pair tumbled down, a jumble of intertwined arms and legs. Kurt twisted to face Blaine, a gorgeous smile gracing his features.

Blaine reached out, running his thumb over the soft skin under Kurt's ear, causing the other boy to shiver.

"Kurt I... I'm pretty new to all of these feelings. To r-romance and stuff. I've never felt so... so connected to a person before, I feel like I've known you forever" Blaine confessed, placing a soft kiss to Kurt's palm, which had been resting underneath his jaw.

Kurt smiled softly at Blaine, finding it hard to believe this boy could claim to be such a stranger to romance when he was the most kind-hearted and beautifully-minded person Kurt had ever met.

Blaine's hand moved slowly from Kurt's face down his side, nestling in the small dip of Kurt's waist.

"You're stunning," Blaine murmured, hazel eyes positively smouldering as he nuzzled Kurt's cheek.

Kurt smiled shyly, breath stuttering a little as Blaine's fingers gently ran over the sensitive skin of his hip.

Blaine met Kurt's gaze, quirking an eyebrow in question as his thumb skimmed just under the waistband of Kurt's boxers. Kurt nodded tentatively, biting his lip.

Blaine looked away bashfully, blushing.

"Is something wrong?" Kurt asked, eyes wide in a look that could only be described as anxious.

Blaine sighed shakily, "I just don't know where to go from here," he confessed, meeting Kurt's eyes once more.

Kurt smiled, his self-consciousness quickly replaced with relief "I just think we do whatever feels good. And just like you said, I'm happy to simply be spending time wi-"

Blaine cut Kurt off, rolling on top of him and silencing him with an open-mouthed kiss.

"Well this works too," Kurt commented, his voice muffled by Blaine's cheek.

Kurt let out a shaky gasp as Blaine rolled his hips down to meet Kurt's, moaning slightly as the friction heightened his awareness that he was, very much, attracted to males.

Kurt reached out to tangle his hands in Blaine's hair, causing him to let out a high-pitched whine.

Kurt chuckled, "Shh, I think they can hear us down in the Careers' apartments," he muttered.

Blaine huffed, "Don't...care" He panted, his thoughts far away from the sneering faces of the other tributes, and focused entirely on the gorgeous boy he was with.

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><p>Tina sat awkwardly across from a rather nonchalant Santana in the dining area of the District Twelve apartment, having met in the apartment lobby. Despite her best attempts, Santana had been unable to convince Tina to not go back for a while, and now they occupied two opposing chairs at the table, avoiding meeting each other's eyes with the occasional... <em>sounds<em> coming through from Blaine's room.

"Fiona and Nicholas said they'd be back in time for dinner," Tina stated, trying to ignore the moans that were coming through the thin walls of the apartment.

"Sounds like Blainers is having fun," Santana commented, completely oblivious to Tina's attempts at hiding her discomfort.

Tina cleared her throat awkwardly, "So yours and Blaine's costumes were a hit in the para-"

There was a loud _thud_ followed by a muffled groan, causing both the women to jump.

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><p>"Shit, Blaine, are you okay?" Kurt hissed, grabbing down for Blaine's hand where he'd tumbled from the bed to the floor, knocking his head in the process.<p>

Blaine just chuckled, sitting up slowly.

"'m fine," he mumbled, touching the back of his head gingerly.

"That was fun," He added, with a cheeky smile.

Kurt snorted, running a hand through Blaine's curls.

"Ow," Blaine whined, pouting, "Kiss it better!"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Blaine, you claimed to be fine five seconds ago. What changed?"

Blaine shrugged, nudging Kurt's nose with his forehead and whining.

"God, you're such a child," Kurt commented, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Blaine's head before pulling him up.

"Come on, I think we should...uh, clean up a little bit."

Blaine nodded, grateful that he got his own bathroom and wouldn't have to face the possibility of the others being back yet.

Blaine pulled Kurt in for a quick hug, "You can have first shower," He murmured, carding a hand through Kurt's hair, before stepping back to admire Kurt's figure. Kurt leaned in again, kissing Blaine briefly before sauntering off in the direction of the bathroom.

Blaine flopped down onto his bed, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face. He closed his eyes, feeling suddenly overwhelmed at the day he had had.

* * *

><p>Kurt stood in the shower, basking in the warm water cascading over his shoulders; the water like hot needles massaging his back in some pleasantly painful way. He couldn't believe that he'd met Blaine merely hours ago, yet they'd connected so well. He couldn't fight a smirk when he remembered just how well they'd been <em>connecting<em> a few minutes prior, but Kurt was slightly worried with how quickly he was falling.

The potential for heartbreak was so high.

* * *

><p>Kurt wandered back into Blaine's room, smiling at the sight of the boy lying facedown in his bed, unable to stop himself ogling Blaine's ass. He crept over to Blaine, placing a hand on his firm shoulder before leaning down and placing a kiss to his jawline.<p>

"Shower's free," Kurt whispered, "Also can I borrow a pair of underwear...mine are currently, uh... not in fit state for wearing."

Blaine rolled over, chuckling at Kurt's blush.

"They're over there," Blaine said, pointing towards a small bag, "...I think," he added. He had been given some basics upon his arrival to the Capitol, and could only hope that underwear was a part of those provisions.

Kurt shuffled over to where Blaine had pointed, "You should go have a shower so we can meet up with the others," He stated, unzipping Blaine's bag before turning away self consciously.

Blaine heaved a sigh, trudging into the bathroom.

* * *

><p>Kurt, Blaine, Santana and Tina all sat around the large mahogany table of the District Twelve apartment. Santana kept smirking at the two men, and, whenever she caught their eyes they'd look away, faces turning bright red.<p>

Thankfully, for three of the quartet, Nicholas and Fiona bustled into the apartment, diffusing most of the awkwardness as the pair tumbled into chairs, smiling at the tributes and their stylists.

"So," Fiona began, her nasal voice piercing Blaine's ears, and, judging by the facial expressions of everyone else, theirs too.

"Tomorrow you," Nicholas pointed to Blaine as he spoke, taking over Fiona, much to her annoyance, "And Santana," he continued, "begin your training for the Games. Now, as I'm sure you're both aware, you'll be doing a fair bit of training, and it's important that you make the most of your down time. No sneaking off."

Santana glanced at Blaine, smirking. He glared at her in response.

"Little Blainers here might have a problem with that," She said, earning an eye-roll from Kurt, and another blush from Blaine.

Tina met Kurt's gaze, unable to fight the small smile curving her lips. It was very rare to see Kurt acting like he had been that day, excessively chirpy and with an undeniable spring in his step. She knew that Blaine was at least three quarters of the reasoning behind this change – not to mention the fact that this was his first time working for the Capitol in the Games. It was an exhilarating prospect.

Kurt raised an eyebrow at Tina's searching look, "What?" He mouthed, sighing when she just shook her head, turning to face Santana.

"And once training is completed and we've watched you in the interviews and the sponsors have had a chance to check you out, it'll be the Games. How are you two feeling about it?"

Blaine's stomach dropped. He'd been so swept up with Kurt, and all the new feelings he'd been experiencing that he'd almost completely forgotten about the Games. Dying.

Kurt must have seen the colour dropping from Blaine's cheeks, as he felt a warm hand clasp his own, the pad of Kurt's thumb rubbing the top of Blaine's hand softly.

Santana glanced across to see Kurt and Blaine exchanging looks, deciding that it was up to her if the conversation was to continue any time soon.

"Well, normally I'd say something about how District Twelve is where the badasses are from, and sure, I know how to defend myself, but this is something completely new. I really don't know what to expect..."

Blaine nodded, finally back in the conversation, Kurt still gripping his hand tightly.

"Yeah, it's the whole 'not knowing what to expect' that's getting to me. Before I got here, I was at terms with the idea that I'd be killed within the first five minutes, but now I kind of want to get at that Karofsky guy from District Two. He really pisses me off," Blaine admitted, chuckling.

"Not to mention you have something to live for..." Santana muttered.

Blaine shot her a dark look. While he did have feelings for Kurt, and Kurt sure as hell reciprocated them if their previous levels of debauchery were anything to go by, he didn't necessarily want Fiona to know. He figured that Nicholas was Kurt's family, and would no doubt find out sooner rather than later, but he'd hold out on everyone else finding out for as long as he could.

"Alright, so I think we should eat and then get some sleep, yeah?" Nicholas asked, smiling at Kurt briefly, who nodded distractedly in return. His fingers were still intertwined with Blaine's and he really had no desire to move, however he wasn't sure how well either of them would manage to manoeuvre their cutlery single-handedly.

Reluctantly, Kurt removed Blaine's hand from his grasp, not missing the small pout that crossed the other boy's face.

"I'm sorry Blaine, but as adorable as you are, it has been a long day and I'm starving."

"I thought we sated our appetites earlier," Blaine murmured, his voice rough as he tried to sound sexy. Kurt snorted quietly, unable to stop his laughter and Blaine joined in, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, that was awful, wasn't it?"

Kurt nodded, still laughing.

"Oh God Blaine, you're shocking."

Blaine smirked, "I'm just glad nobody heard me... I've never heard of a relationship between a tribute and their stylist before... is it even allowed?"

Kurt shrugged, "I don't know, but it's not like it's going to give you any advanta- oh."

Kurt's eyes had lit up briefly, his eyebrows raised in realisation.

"What?" Blaine asked, nudging Kurt.

"Nothing, I... nothing, I just remembered something I uh, have to fix for the outfit for your interview..."

Blaine nodded, not quite believing Kurt, but not wanting to push him.

"Okay then," Blaine said, smiling, "Let's eat!"

Kurt nodded, smiling absently as he picked up his knife and fork, meeting Nicholas' gaze.

Sooner rather than later, they were going to need to talk.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I've got finals coming up, but will hopefully have more time to write now**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: please don't hate me, I've had exams and am now in the midst of plans to move over to New Zealand for a few months. Yay. Please let me know what you think of this chapter! And check out BloodRedLust's amazing fic, Let Me Be! She lost all of the people who were subscribed to author alert, and she's just finished another great one, so FIC REC!**

**Enjoy this chapter! I'm not using linebreaks anymore either, it makes the formatting for scarvesandcoffee easier.**

* * *

><p>Blaine surveyed his surroundings; the cavernous room daunting him. It was full of training equipment, with everything from a few tables of camouflage materials, to a wall for practising rock-climbing.<p>

He swallowed thickly, unblinking as he continued taking in everything around him. His gaze rested on a group of tributes who were all huddled together, glancing over at where Blaine and Santana stood and whispering.

Santana rolled her eyes, "Stupid Careers, they're trying to intimidate us Blaine, just ignore 'em."

Blaine nodded, tearing his eyes away from the massive form of Karofsky. His stomach churned. That Career would get what was coming to him; of that, Blaine was sure.

A bell rang, and the tributes all moved to their first station. Blaine and Santana had decided to stick together, wandering towards the rock wall.

'This shouldn't be too hard,' Blaine thought to himself, staring up at the huge wall, not bothering with a harness.

...***...

"Oh _God_ Kurt, right there," Blaine moaned, his head buried in a pillow. Kurt chuckled, working his fingers deeper into the muscles in Blaine's back.

"You've got quite a few knots, what did you _do_ today?" Kurt exclaimed, appreciating the sight of Blaine's muscled back as he began to knead it.

"I...unffg... Santana and I climbed the rock wa-ughhh"

"Sorry, what was that?" Kurt asked teasingly.

"Shh, it's not my fault you have magic hands," Blaine whined, flinging his arms out to the side and groaning.

"Magic hands, huh? You'd know a lot about that after last night," Kurt muttered into Blaine's ear. The other boy groaned, the sound slightly muffled before he turned his head to plant a firm kiss to Kurt's lips.

Kurt smiled at the feeling of Blaine's lips pressed to his own, leaning back as Blaine turned over. The light caught Blaine's chest at a particular angle, causing Kurt to gasp.

Blaine's chest was littered with scars.

"Blaine, what _happened_ to you?"

Blaine glanced up at Kurt, his eyes distant and unfocused. He laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair, gripping the curls at the base of his neck in an effort to ground himself.

"I, uh..."

Kurt pulled Blaine close, holding him tightly.

Blaine took a few deep breaths, as though he was giving himself an internal pep-talk.

"Remember when I mentioned how things weren't that great for me in District Twelve?"

Kurt nodded, eyes wide.

"My family has never really been accepting of me. My Dad would beat me occasionally, claiming he was 'toughening me up'. I think he was trying to literally whip me into the shape he wanted."

Kurt's breath caught – he was absolutely horrified. How could someone do such a thing to someone as wonderful as Blaine?

"... I came out to Cooper, my brother, when I was about thirteen. Everyone pretty much knew anyway, so it wasn't much of a secret. I kept to myself at school and didn't really have many friends. The two friends I did have were Tributes in two consecutive games. Both were killed within the first couple of days."

The look on Blaine's face absolutely tore Kurt's heart apart. He pulled Blaine even closer, peppering kisses along his jaw. Blaine smiled faintly, clearing his throat before continuing on with his story.

"I thought it would be okay with Cooper. We'd always been kind of close, but he had this annoying habit of trying to set me up with girls my age. At first I found it sort of funny because he thought I was straight, but after I came out and he kept doing it, it was absolutely frustrating.

"I think the thing that broke me the most, both physically and emotionally was the day Cooper's friends beat me up. Cooper had gone and told my Dad I was gay, and the word had spread like wildfire. I became a target.

"I was walking home from school one day, my friend Wes lived in the other direction, and it was still pretty light out, so we figured we'd be safe from anything that might have been wandering around.

"Cooper and his friends were hanging out near the fencing at the outskirts of District Twelve, near where we both lived. He saw me coming and walked away, sharing a laugh with his friends. I went to walk right past them, but the tallest guy tripped me.

"They laughed at me, sneering at how pathetic I was. I stood up, dusting myself off and making to walk away again when I was pushed over.

"I don't remember much, Kurt, I tried to forget about that night, but I remember being _so_ pissed off. These were the guys that were at _my_ house pretty much daily, and now they were beating me up. Don't get me wrong, I managed to get a few punches in, but I still copped it pretty bad. I think I cracked a rib, but I honestly couldn't tell you. I just remember being found by this lady who was about my mother's age. She took me in, and spent days helping me recover."

Kurt could do nothing but gaze at Blaine, rubbing his thumb over the top of Blaine's hand.

"I never even found out her name, all I know is that she and her son were relocated to the Capitol a few weeks later."

"Oh Blaine," Kurt mumbled, running his fingers through Blaine's hair soothingly, "I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

Blaine nodded, tilting his head so Kurt hit just behind his ear.

Kurt chuckled, "Are you _purring_, Blaine?"

Blaine shook his head, eyes drifting shut.

"Mmm'not, s'just feels nice," He muttered, feeling drained from delving back into memories he'd tried so long ago to bury.

Kurt cocked an eyebrow disbelievingly.

"I think you should get to sleep, catman."

Blaine pouted, whining when Kurt stopped playing with his curls.

"Staywimme," Blaine mumbled, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist. Kurt chuckled in response, untangling himself from Blaine's grasp.

"Tell you what, I'll be back soon, I just have to go talk to Nicholas."

Kurt had made up his mind, and knew what to do. Now he just had to commit to his plans.

"Fine, go see your Uncle Nicky," Blaine said, turning to bury his head in his pillow once more, "I'll just lie here and wallow in my pain."

Kurt smiled, running a hand affectionately along Blaine's shoulder blades before slipping out of the room.

...***...

"Uncle Nick?" Kurt whispered, opening his uncle's bedroom door gingerly.

The older man smiled at Kurt from where he sat reading in a chair, beckoning him in.

"What can I help you with, Kurt?" Nicholas asked, gesturing for Kurt to take a seat on the edge of his bed.

"It's Blaine," Kurt replied, not meeting his uncle's eyes.

"Mmmm? What about him?"

Kurt wasn't nervous about acknowledging the fact that he liked a boy. Hell, it was his Uncle Nicky. The man had paid for Kurt and Burt to be moved to the Capitol. Kurt didn't even know how someone went about doing that, but Nicholas had broken any boundaries to do it for his family. It was the fact that he was going to admit it was _Blaine_ that he had feelings for.

"I, uh... Oh God, I didn't think it would be this hard," Kurt admitted with a slight chuckle.

"Spit it out squirt," Nicholas laughed, his eyes shining.

"I really like him, Uncle Nick. He's so intelligent and funny and I just..." Kurt broke off, glancing up at his uncle for the first time. Nicholas raised an eyebrow, prompting Kurt to continue.

"I'm incapable of thinking about how I would feel if he were to die in the arena. I've never felt this way about someone, ever. I really don't know what to do."

Kurt sighed, flopping back on Nicholas' bed.

"Have you told him how you feel?"

Kurt blushed, shaking his head.

"Not in so many words. I think we're both kind of shy to admit much because we've known each other for less than a week. That's not exactly a conventional relationship."

Nicholas laughed, "Let's face it, what in our society _is_ conventional anyhow?"

"Kurt, your mom and Burt were essentially an item after one 'date'. Well, as much of a date as you can have in District Twelve."

The pair chuckled, sharing a smile.

"But Kurt, Blaine's the kind of guy who needs to know that he's got something worth living for. When I tried to talk to him and Santana on the train, he'd zone out completely, and when I asked him something he'd make a comment about being dead soon enough so he wasn't in anybody's way. I think he needs you, Kurt. And in regards to not being able to watch him die, if we give him something to live for, maybe he won't. He has a chance Kurt, he's just got to believe for himself that he does."

Kurt gushed to Nicholas for a while longer, grateful that while he hadn't seen his father in a few days, he was lucky enough to be spending time with his uncle, someone who had hardly changed as time went on. Other than Burt, Nicholas was the one Kurt looked up to the most.

...***...

Nicholas pulled Kurt aside the next morning, leading him down towards an alcove.

"I talked to Blaine earlier, Kurt. He told me everything you said to him last night. God, that boy is smitten with you. I don't care how long you two have been together, you're absolutely perfect for one another."

Kurt smiled slightly, blushing.

"He's determined to win this for you, y'know?" Nicholas asked, his voice soft.

"I hope he does. I can't handle the thought of a world without him in it. He's just got so much to offer."

Nicholas laughed, "Funny, he said something like that about you too... anyhow, the point is, you are both absolutely head over heels for each other, but I don't know what that would mean if anybody outside of this apartment was to find out."

Kurt nodded, "Is there any chance we can do something though, like we talked about last night?"

Nicholas sucked air through his teeth, exhaling sharply.

"Do you mean what I think you do, Kurt?"

Kurt nodded, his eyes meeting Nick's.

Nick sighed, "It'd be tricky, but we could give it a go."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey guys, I am so so sorry this took so long, but I'm going to New Zealand tomorrow and I've been chasing up passports etc. I don't know if anyone's even reading this anymore, which is my fault, but I just wanted to say a huge thanks to those people who keep the kind words coming – it's been a long couple of months, and please just bear with me, I will update when I can. Having said that, I don't know when I'll next get internet, but I'll find a way. I may have to update several chapters at a time (wouldn't **_**that**_** be a shame?).**

**...***... **

Blaine Anderson was surprising himself in ways he never thought he would. For once, people around him seemed to be congratulating him for exhibiting skill of any sort. Due to his lack in self confidence, Kurt had taken to encouraging him at every opportunity.

As much as Blaine was enjoying the thrill of being around Kurt, he still had a permanent feeling of ill-ease settled at the pit of his stomach. The feelings he was developing for his designer had started off completely unexpected, however during the past few days of training, Blaine had been unable to stop them from taking him over.

He was falling in love with Kurt. He was falling in love with the way Kurt's eyes crinkled when he smiled fondly at Blaine – something that had been happening rather frequently when the pair was alone. Blaine's heart leapt whenever their skin touched, which was fairly often. They hadn't done anything particularly more _intimate_ since that first evening together; if anything it had served to diffuse the intense sexual tension that would have no doubt continued to brew. Neither of them regretted a thing, and were content to just spend time in each other's company.

As Blaine entered the training arena for the fourth time, he couldn't help but shiver as the hair on the back of his neck prickled. Something felt off. Nobody was looking at him strangely, and everybody seemed to be going about their own business. He shrugged it off, attributing it to some form of nerves or anticipation for that afternoon, which he and Kurt were going to spend together. Alone.

"Hey Blainers, I'm going to throw some spears at a dummy and pretend it's a Career – wanna join me?"

Santana's question pulled Blaine from his thoughts. Although hurling all sorts of projectiles at mannequins did sound like fun, Blaine really enjoyed practising his hand-to-hand combat, as well as the rock climbing wall. He figured that if the Arena this year was a sheer cliff face, he might stand more of a chance than some of the others.

He doubted that would be the case, but he still kept the thought entertained at the back of his mind.

Blaine shook his head in response to Santana's question, before wandering over to one of the many punching bags. It had been brand new when they all arrived in the training hall, and Blaine had essentially claimed the one in front of him as his own. It was tattered. All of his pent-up frustrations had been taken out on the bag. He honestly didn't know why he hadn't taken up boxing sooner; aside from the fact that in his District it was more of an underground, meant-to-be-secret club. People still talked about it though, and it was hard to ignore bruises on many a teenage boy's face as they walked about the District, trying to feign nonchalance.

Blaine wrapped his fists with some tape – although it probably wouldn't be available in the actual Games, he wanted to protect his hands as much as possible – before slamming into the bag with a right jab. He smiled as the familiar feeling of adrenaline rushed through his body; aiming a left hook followed by a right uppercut.

The bag swung, and Blaine pulled it in to his body to stop the continuous motion. He'd learned the hard way that punching the bag during a particularly large swing jolted his arm. Blaine took a few steps back, changing his stance to kick the bag back. He raised his leg, before something knocked into him and twisted his foot, causing him to smash to the ground.

"What the fuck?" He muttered, sitting up slowly and hissing softly at the throbbing pain now surrounding his right ankle.

He glanced around, trying to work out what had happened.

Of _course_. Standing a few meters away, trying to look as though he'd been painting his arm in camouflage the whole time, was Karofsky.

Blaine glared at him, earning a smirk in return. His blood boiled. While he'd have loved nothing more than to storm over and knock the Career out, he was in quite a surprising amount of pain.

What had Karofsky _done_ to him, exactly?

Blaine sighed, feeling embarrassed. As much as he would have liked to simply walk off, he couldn't. He didn't want to call for Santana, because that would attract the attention of nearly everybody else around him.

He couldn't help but be reminded of the day where he'd lain in the dust of District Twelve, left for dead by Cooper's friends. Why did people have to be so _violent_ towards him, Blaine thought to himself.

At that moment, Santana popped up above him, eyebrows raised.

"Okay, I knew you were short, but this is just _sad_, Blaine, I swear you only come up to my knees when you're sitting down. Stand up, this is awkward."

Blaine sighed, shaking his head.

"I... I can't," He whispered, his ears turning pink to match his cheeks.

"Why the hell not?" Santana demanded, "I know this is tiring, but it's our only chance to train before we have to present to the sponsors and all of that crap."

Blaine ran a hand through his hair, looking up at Santana.

"Karofsky did something to my leg when I was about to kick...I ... I don't even know, it was really quick and then I was flat on my back, and now my ankle is causing me rather a lot of pain."

Blaine rested back on his elbows, grimacing at the awkward position.

"I don't suppose you could please help me up?" He asked Santana, making his eyes as wide and pleading as he could.

"Oh, God, fine!" She huffed, extending a hand.

Blaine grinned, accepting the hand and trying to steady himself with one hand and his good leg.

"I might just head back to the apartment, I can't train like this," Blaine admitted despondently.

Santana nodded, "Kurt and Tina were working on finishing our costumes for the interviews. They're tomorrow, don't forget."

Blaine smiled, "How could I possibly forget _that_ particular method of torture they're going to subject us to?"

His fellow tribute snorted, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, well, then it will be over and the Games will be soon enough."

Blaine's stomach fell. Somehow, no matter how much he was surrounded by the propaganda of the Capitol, and regardless of the training he had been undergoing, Blaine would often forget the very reason he was actually there.

To be killed on national television.

...***...

"...and I think if we just take that hem up a tiny bit more, because let's face it, half of those sponsors are dirty old men who'll w- Blaine?"

Kurt stopped mid sentence to rush over to where his... _friend_ leant in the doorway, forehead gleaming with sweat. It was taking a lot of effort to keep himself on his feet, and he had to steady himself on the wall to stop from falling to the ground.

"What happened?" Kurt asked, helping Blaine cross the apartment as gently as he could.

"Karofsky." Blaine muttered, wincing as his foot brushed a chair.

"Shit!" He hissed, shutting his eyes tightly.

"I'll take you to lie down and I'll get you some ice. I'll be right back, Tina."

The other stylist smile-grimaced, nodding in understanding. Kurt was good with this sort of thing.

"You lie here, with this ice-" Kurt placed an ice pack on Blaine's ankle, running a hand down his cheek softly, "-I've got to go and finish these plans with Tina, and then I'll be back, okay? You rest up."

Blaine nodded obediently, content to lie in his comfortable bed, maybe even sleep a little bit.

...***...

Kurt smiled, slipping his pen back into its case. The tweaking had been complete, and he decided to go and check on Blaine to see how the boy's ankle was faring.

He opened the bedroom door ever-so-slowly, smiling at the sight of Blaine passed out on his bed – curls sticking up everywhere.

There was no one else Kurt would have rather worked with.

He shuddered to think of what things would have been like if he'd been stuck with Karofsky. Most definitely unpleasant, that was for sure.

Kurt shut the door again. His and Blaine's plans could wait a little longer.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: yay I'm in New Zealand. Still coming to terms with how many amazing reviews I got last chapter! Thanks be to Nurse Kate, SeddieShortBus, XxHushHushXx (this chapter should answer your comment), LPlover93, slew, ****Music-To-My-Ears-3 and BloodRedLust (who also happens to be my awesome beta!). Your words mean so much, and it was great to know y'all haven't given up on me!**

**Please bear in mind that I'm not a doctor, and that this is fiction. ARTISTIC LICENSE. Things aren't necessarily going to be believable but things that are believable can be boring so…**

**Enjoy!**

**P.S. If you haven't already, be sure to read warbleretteinwonderland's stories - she's amazing!**

* * *

><p>…***…<p>

Blaine woke late that afternoon, to find Kurt curled around him. He sighed in frustration – that incident had prevented him from training for the rest of the day. Blaine figured he needed as much as he could get, what with the Games coming up so quickly.

Kurt stirred from behind him, shuffling closer to Blaine and burying his face in the crook of Blaine's neck. A dopey smile twitched Blaine's lips, and he let out a content sigh. His ankle was still causing pain, and Blaine fumed with what Karofsky had done.

By sticking to the same punching bag each training session, Blaine had essentially permitted Karofsky to develop a plan based around his routine. The fact that the punching bags were in the far corner of the training arena meant that the space was secluded enough as it was, let alone the fact that Blaine chose the bag furthest from anybody else.

Nobody had seen. Even if they'd noticed Karofsky, it would have merely looked as though he was walking past. A second was all it had taken to cripple Blaine with debilitating pain.

Blaine knew he could talk to Nicholas, and get him to ensure the Game Maker found out, but the story would never be believed. For all anyone knew, District Twelve was making everything up to try and get ahead of the game.

With a heavy sigh, Blaine twisted to nuzzle Kurt's hairline softly with his nose. The other boy's nose scrunched up, making Blaine's heart leap with how adorable he was.

"Mmmwhat, 'm shleeppy," Kurt mumbled, snuggling even tighter into Blaine, who chuckled.

"Hey sleepyhead, wake up," Blaine whispered, tilting Kurt's chin up to press a soft kiss to his lips.

Kurt's eyes snapped open, and he beamed at Blaine, pecking him on the lips before sitting bolt upright.

"Your ankle, God, I didn't even think to check what kind of injury it was before putting ice on it. Oh god, what if I made things worse? I hope it's okay, how are you feeling?"

Blaine's eyes widened at Kurt's ramblings, "Hey, shh, I'm okay, it's all okay. Everything's fine."

Although Blaine was still in a considerable amount of pain, he knew that Kurt's stress levels were probably bad enough with getting things organised for the interviews, and decided to withhold just how much pain he was in.

Kurt took a deep breath to settle himself, smiling hesitantly at Blaine.

"Sorry, I just… I get worried. My father was sick a while back, and that absolutely terrified me. I think I have some nurture-complex or something. I can be a bit intense, I… yeah…" Kurt trailed off, looking a little uneasy still.

Blaine smiled, "I understand, but I'll be okay. I hope. I don't really know what Karofsky did – something's wrong with my Achilles tendon, from what I can tell anyhow."

Kurt winced, unable to imagine the pain Blaine was going through.

"I don't know if I'll be able to walk or anything Kurt, I don't know what to do."

Blaine's eyes were windows where the rest of his body was completely shut off- he was afraid. He knew he'd have to compete regardless of if he could walk or not. They couldn't just go back to District Twelve and pick another tribute.

Blaine wasn't sure what he'd done to offend Karofsky; it wasn't even all that obvious that he was gay. All Blaine knew was that, after the way Karofsky had treated Kurt, he wouldn't be lasting long inside the arena.

Provided Blaine could walk, that is.

Kurt pulled Blaine close, wary of his leg.

"We'll figure something out."

…***…

Nicholas glared at Blaine, the last of the sunlight streaming through his hair, making it look ablaze.

"Why. Didn't. You. Tell. Me. When. It Happened."

Blaine shrunk down in his chair, avoiding eye contact with his trainer.

"I…"

"God Blaine, now you can hardly walk, who knows how you're going to compete. If I got my hands on that Career I'd-"

"You'd do nothing," Tina stated. Everyone stared. It was the first time she'd spoken since everyone had gathered around the table.

"You'd do nothing, Nicholas, and I'll tell you why. Blaine may think nobody saw, and that could well be the case. However, if someone saw, and word eventually gets out that you're the one who did something to this Karofsky guy, Blaine'll lose any respect people had for him. Not to mention that you'd face who-knows-what kind of trouble for assaulting a tribute. Just leave it. Karofsky will get what's coming to him. Blaine will make sure of it. Won't you Blaine?"

Blaine gaped, "I think that's the most I've ever heard you say."

Santana rolled her eyes, "Clearly Blainers has had too many painkillers and is incapable of forming a response. If he doesn't get Karofsky though, I sure as hell will. He's rubbed me up the wrong way too and I'm ready to wipe that constipated smirk off his face."

Kurt sighed, leaning back in his chair. As much as he didn't want to leave, he had to go in to the Capitol to pick up one final addition to Blaine's outfit for his interview the next evening.

Nicholas noticed his nephew getting restless and nodded, "You go, Kurt, we'll see you back here soon. The fellow at the store said he'd have it ready by six."

Kurt excused himself from the table, rubbing Blaine's shoulder briefly before grabbing his satchel and slipping out the door towards the elevator.

…***…

Stepping out of the elevator, Kurt wished he hadn't.

Karofsky and his fellow Disctrict Two tribute were making their way towards where he was, trailing behind their stylists and trainer.

Karofsky met Kurt's fierce glare, smirking slightly.

"I'll be right up," He stated, loud enough for Kurt to hear, "I've just got some business to attend to."

The others continued walking, not really caring what Karofsky had to do.

Kurt quickened his pace, trying to keep his distance as much as possible, but was seized by a rather strong hand.

"Not so fast, lady, I've got something to say to you."

The tribute dragged Kurt off towards a bathroom, checking it was all clear before pulling him in and flinging him towards the row of basins.

_Not again_, Kurt thought to himself as he stood up and brushed himself off. _Oh God, please don't let this all start again. It was bad enough the first time_.

"What do you want?" Kurt hissed, sounding a lot braver than he felt.

"You and your _queerboy_", Karofsky snarled, "Need to stay the hell away from me. I've got to win these Games, and I can't do it if I catch gay."

Kurt's blood ran cold. So _that_ was what Blaine's injury was about. Their sexuality, once again.

"Look, can you just stop being so pigheaded and obtuse? Pull your head out of you're a-"

Karofsky grabbed Kurt's shoulders, assaulting his soft lips with harsh chapped ones. Kurt's head snapped back in an effort to get away, but Karofsky leant in once more. Kurt pushed him, fleeing the bathrooms with tears streaming down his face.

…***…

"Kurt? Wha's wrong?" Blaine asked, his voice muffled by Kurt's cheek on his mouth.

Kurt stifled another sob, his chest heaving.

"He k-kissed me, Blaine. That mm-onster fucking kissed me."

Blaine sat upright, pulling Kurt with him, then wincing at the pain.

"What?" He growled, eyes wild.

"He dragged me into a bathroom and told me we had to stop being gay because he 'didn't want to catch it' or some shit, I mean really, who the hell even thinks like that anymore? But he pulled me into this bathroom, hurled me at the sinks and then kissed me when I told him to stop being so pigheaded and to get his head out of his ass and I just… Blaine, I can't get the taste of his lips off of mine and he was so st-strong and-"

Kurt allowed Blaine to bring him in, brushing his hair gently and soothing him.

"Look at me," He murmured, tilting Kurt's head up with his index finger.

"I am going to get that sorry son of a bitch if it's the last thing I do, okay?"

Kurt nodded, "But what about your leg?"

"Who gives a damn about my leg? Kurt, this guy is complete slime. I never used to like the idea of violence, but right now I wouldn't mind trying out the 'one punch to kill' theory. He's not worth the energy of two hits. He's trying to get us to retaliate, so I don't get to compete in the Games. Well it's not going to work."

Kurt exhaled shakily, brushing himself down.

"I also picked up that brace for your Achilles. Uncle Nicky was saying that if we give you a painkiller that will only affect that part of your leg, and put the brace over, you should be able to walk almost normally. Showing any kind of weakness from this point is going to be a detriment to your chances of getting sponsors."

"You mean you went out after Karofsky _assaulted_ you?"

"I had to, I couldn't just leave that man at his shop. Besides, we needed to get that brace with enough time to check it fitted."

Blaine shook his head, "Kurt, you're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for."

Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine, enveloping him in a fierce hug.

"You're awesome," he mumbled into Blaine's collar.

Blaine shrugged, smirking.

"I know."

…***…

"Okay, so if they ask you why you're walking funny you say…?"

"'I had a particularly intense night last night, and I'm still feeling it this evening,' and then I wink at the camera."

Kurt went bright red, Nicholas spluttering.

"I… Blaine… no. Maybe you shouldn't have anymore painkillers after this. We need you to behave for the interview, which is in… three hours."

Blaine pouted, "Okay, if they ask, I say that the training I'm going through requires the occasional breakage of a microbone in my foot, and that it'll be healed in just a few days to be stronger than it was before."

Nicholas nodded, "Good, that's right. And remember, if they ask anything other than that just say you can't divulge any information other than what has been said. You can wink after that if you really want. It'll make you seem charismatic."

"But I am charismatic," Blaine mumbled, crossing his arms.

"Of course you are, but we need it to be exaggerated on the big screen, or they might not see it, okay mister?"

Kurt laughed at the tone Nicholas employed, and the fact that Blaine was completely oblivious.

"Is there anything else I have to do or can I have a nap now?"

Nicholas rolled his eyes, "Yes, you can go and have a nap, but a quick one, because we'll need to get you ready soon."

"Okay Nickynick. Come on Kurty."

Blaine held out his hand, making grabby gestures.

Kurt was torn between laughing and hugging Blaine. He was extremely drugged as a result of their aim to diminish the pain in his Achilles as much as possible before the interview, and the result was an adorable, clingy, rather inappropriate Blaine.

"Sorry Blaine, I actually needed to talk to Kurt about something."

Blaine's face fell, "But naps with Kurt are the best kind of naps. He's so snuggly and cuddly and his tummy is so smooth and his c-"

"OKAY Blaine let's get you into bed for a quick nap, I'll come and wake you up when it's time to get ready, mmkay?"

Blaine nodded, trying rather unsuccessfully to walk to his room.

With a heave, Kurt had the other boy in his arms, and carried him in, laying him down gently.

"Get some rest, I'll be back soon."

Blaine's eyelids fluttered shut, sleep taking him swiftly.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Please don't hate me. I've had the worst block, and with all the things going on in my family (such as divorces, hospital visits and moving countries completely), I decided to be a bit selfish and have some time to myself. I've started Chapter 14, and can honestly say it will never take me that long to update again. **

**If you've forgotten what's happened thus far, Karofsky has been harassing both Blaine and Kurt and injured Blaine. Blaine doesn't handle pain or painkillers well and they tends to make him a bit loopy.**

**Shout out to fizzy123 for getting my a into g and uploading this one!**

****Disclaimer: Glee or the Hunger Games aren't mine. Although I wouldn't mind my own Blaine. Please.

* * *

><p>Blaine leant against the wall of a narrow corridor, waiting to be called up for the interview. His leg was numb from painkillers, and his main center of balance was currently Kurt.<p>

Santana had been up on the interview stage for roughly seven minutes, and Blaine knew he wasn't far off. The brace for Blaine's Achilles tendon was irritating him, but Kurt had told him it would help heal the injury, so Blaine was obliging. He'd do whatever Kurt told him to.

"Are you ready for this?" Kurt whispered, smiling at Blaine as he rubbed his thumb over Blaine's fingers.

"Yeah," Blaine replied, rubbing his eyes a little bit.

"I just can't wait to get out of here and get some sleep. I feel like I've done heaps today, when really I spent most of the time sleeping and preparing for this. The outfit looks great, by the way."

Kurt beamed, "I'm glad you think so - it's not as impressive as the parade one was, but I think this inverted version of it is still quite smart. It suits you."

"Blaine Anderson?"

Blaine and Kurt glanced up at a tall man standing in the doorway.

"You're up in one minute. Please come this way."

The man turned and went through the door, leaving Kurt and Blaine once more.

"Good luck. You'll be fine, I just hope for all of our sakes that the painkillers that removed your filter are out of your system. We really don't need the Capitol knowing about our love life."

Blaine blushed, "Okay, I get it. I'm a bit crazy when I have painkillers in my system."

Blaine pressed a quick kiss to Kurt's temple, "I'll be back at the apartment later. You're great."

Kurt nodded, rubbing a hand down Blaine's back softly.

"I'll see you soon."

***...***

"And, all the way from District Twelve, we have Blaine Anderson!"

Blaine smiled and waved as he headed out onto the stage, greeting the host, Marc James, before taking a seat.

"So, Blaine, welcome to the Capitol. Are you excited for the Games?"

Blaine nodded, smiling broadly.

"Yeah, I really am."

"You didn't leave anybody _specia_l behind? A girlfriend perhaps?"

Blaine laughed, and Marc raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, I uh. No, no I didn't."

Blaine deliberated for a moment - he and Kurt had spent some time weighing up the pros and cons of coming out on a national broadcast. Kurt had mentioned how people in the Capitol were more open minded, but he might lose the support of his own District.

He realised Marc was still watching him.

"Sorry, got a bit lost in thought there," Blaine admitted with a chuckle. Marc smiled in response, encouraging Blaine to continue speaking.

"I didn't have a girlfriend in District Twelve. Because I'm gay."

A hush filled the stadium and Blaine's blood ran cold.

"That's a very brave thing to say."

Blaine nodded, "Yeah, well, it's just part of who I am, you know? It's as relevant to my ability as a Tribute as my hair colour, but I don't like feeling like I'm hiding it. I'm proud of who I am. Even if other people aren't."

Applause ran out through the stadium, and Blaine cracked a smile, trying not to let the tears well up and spill over his cheeks. That would not look so good. He'd just never imagined this many people being supportive of him regardless of his sexuality.

"Okay, let's take a minute and discuss this, if that's okay -what was it like being open about your sexuality in District Twelve? The more far-out districts are known for having more narrow minds."

Blaine snorted, "You can say that again - it wasn't easy, but I was very careful with who I told. I trusted some people who I shouldn't, and as a result I was out of action for quite a while. Luckily not everybody was like that, though. A lady who I didn't even know took me in and healed me up..."

***...***

Carole Hudson stared at her television in disbelief.

"Kurt, can you come in here please sweetie?"

Kurt bustled in, "Sorry, Dad needed a hand. What's up?"

"This Blaine boy who you're the stylist for. I know him."

"I... You what?"

***...***

"Well that's great to hear Blaine, and you're a stronger man because of it?"

Blaine grinned, throwing a wink in the direction of where he'd heard some disappointed girls before.

"Oh yes. There's very little I can do now."

***...***

"He got beaten up quite badly when I was still in District Twelve with Finn, I took him in for a few days."

***...***

"So, you didn't give much away on film in terms of how you were feeling at the moment your name was pulled at the Reaping, but you say you're looking forward to the Games. What's the story there?"

Blaine paused for a moment. His real reason for looking forward to the Games was to get revenge on Karofsky, but he couldn't well say that in front of all of Panem. He decided to leave out the neanderthal Career, and focus more on his past.

"I guess I was looking for any way to get out of District Twelve. It wasn't easy growing up, and I'd often felt that the Games would be the perfect way out. It felt so surreal to finally hear my name."

"Surreal in a good way?"

Blaine nodded, "Definitely. I hate to think of what I would have done with myself if I'd been stuck there much longer. I'm going to give the Games everything I have though, now."

Blaine froze. Would Marc James notice?

"What do you mean, 'now'?"

_Shit_

"I...uh..." Blaine chuckled nervously, "I guess seeing this way of living in the Capitol has shown me the potential that is out there?"

Marc pursed his lips, nodding.

"Okay, on to our next question. Your stylist this year is Kurt Hummel, who is a brand new addition to the team behind the Games. What's he like?"

Blaine took a deep breath. _Whatever you do, don't blush. Do. Not. Blush. Or gush_.

"Kurt's really great, y'know? He's incredibly talented, and he does such a great job with trying out new things, I mean, weren't those Parade outfits awesome?"

The Capitol thundered with applause.

A couple of miles away, Kurt sat in front of the television, his cheeks flushed red.

"Yeah, they certainly were. It's great to hear you and Kurt are getting along."

_Yeah, you could say that_.

***…***

"He was such a sweet boy, and he still is, clearly. Be careful though, Kurt. A relationship with a Tribute may only lead to heartbreak."

Kurt nodded, his sight never straying from the television, where Blaine was currently praising Kurt some more.

_Way to be obvious, boy_, he thought to himself, slightly amused.

***…***

"I couldn't help but notice that you walked up here a little slowly – any reason for concern?"

Blaine shook his head, his mind focused on what had been planned for him to say, rather than blurting out how fantastic Kurt was in bed.

"No, no worries at all. Sometimes my training results in the fracture of a microbone in my foot, it heals in a day or two, leaving the bone stronger. If anything, my walking slow is a good thing," Blaine chuckled.

"Well, everyone, Blaine Anderson. We'll see you around, and may the odds be ever in your favour."

Blaine beamed, "Thanks for having me Marc," and waved to the crowd as he walk-limped off stage.

Blaine rounded a corner, cursing the painkillers for having worn off so quickly. Kurt had said he'd meet Blaine back at the apartment after the interviews, so he made his way slowly back down to the waiting area where Nicholas would, hopefully, be.

What he didn't expect was to be pushed into the wall by a rather large Career.

"Fucking hell, Karofsky, what do you want?" Blaine demanded, trying and failing to stand upright.

"You and Hummel are beyond a joke. You're not going to be competing in the Games."

Karofsky shoved Blaine again, landing a hard punch to his stomach.

"What, you're not going to fight back? Figures, you _pussy_."

Blaine collapsed, pain throbbing through his leg and torso. Karofsky threw a punch to Blaine's nose, before kicking him in the ribs for good measure. Blaine glared as Karofsky sauntered off, no witness to be seen anywhere.

Blaine let his head fall back on the ground, closing his eyes. He couldn't stop the blood flowing from his head, and he didn't try to. Nicholas would be there soon. In the meantime, he'd continue to take shuddering breaths and will away the dizziness overtaking him.

That's how Nicholas found him ten minutes later – shaking slightly and fighting to remain conscious.

"Jesus, Blaine, what the hell happened?"

"Karovvshky."

Nicholas growled, running a hand through his hair.

"How are we going to get you back to the apartment…"

Nick pulled out a phone, tapping some numbers in.

"Hi, Burt?"

…***…

Burt Hummel strode through the rabbit warren of the Capitol event center's halls, trying to find his brother-in-law.

"Nick?" He called, his brow furrowed as he went down yet another corridor.

"Through here, Burt."

Burt walked down the brightly lit hallway, gasping when he saw the figure collapsed on the ground.

Kurt hadn't been told yet – Burt hadn't thought to do so, but he realised it would have probably been a wise idea, considering how close this boy and his son seemed to be.

"Hey son, I'm Burt Hummel," Burt smiled down at the kid, although it proved to be more of a grimace.

"Who did this to you?"

"One of the Careers," Nick supplied, disgust rolling off of him in waves.

"He already messed up Blaine's leg, but the problem we have is that this kid strikes whenever nobody is around."

"'m still gonna compete in th'games," Blaine mumbled, trying to stay conscious despite the pain that was currently hammering him.

"Damn right you are son, you've got to put that scum in his place," Burt smiled, "Okay, how are we getting this kid back to the apartment?"

Nicholas gave Burt a look, and the pair picked Blaine up as carefully as they could, carrying him gingerly back through all of the halls and corridors Burt had walked through no more than five minutes previous.

"I don't know how you find your way around here," Burt admitted, grinning slightly at Nick's responding chuckle.

"Where'sh Kurt?" Blaine mumbled, wincing as Nick hoisted him up as carefully as he could, which wasn't very careful at all.

"He's at the apartment kiddo, he doesn't know what's happened yet, but I'd say when he finds out, you're not going to be left alone."

"Tha's good. I like Kurt," Blaine sighed, smiling, "He's so amazing, like, really amazing, and his hair is amazing and his ass is a-"

"-OKAY, I really don't think we need to go there, so let's get you into this shuttle and back to the apartment."  
>***…***<p>

Kurt paced up and down the apartment, no doubt driving Santana and Tina nuts. Blaine was meant to have been back at least fifteen minutes ago.

The door slammed open, and Kurt stared incredulously at his father, (_why is he here?), _who was currently assisting his uncle carry a very _injured_ looking Blaine through the doorway.

"Oh my God, what happened? Dad, no offense, but what are you doing here?"

"Nick needed a hand getting this boy of yours out of the Capitol Events Center."

"He's not mi-"

Burt raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. Kurt shut up.

"That Career from District Two got him when nobody else was around. I think we're gonna need Carole."

Kurt nodded, running to a phone on the wall to call his step mother.

Amongst all of the goings-on, Santana and Tina had slipped out quietly to do some final measurements on Santana's outfit for the Arena. Kurt didn't blame them. The apartment was quickly turning into a mad house, with Burt and Nick raging about Karofsky and 'Games officials not doing their damn job'.

Kurt hung up the phone, slipping in quietly next to Blaine.

"Blaine, honey, how are you feeling? Carole's gonna be here soon, okay, and she'll patch you up."

"Again," Burt muttered, and Kurt shot him a look.

Blaine just smiled dopily at Kurt, reaching out slowly to stroke his face. Kurt blushed, grabbing Blaine's other hand that was making its way up Kurt's thigh and gently linking their fingers as he returned Blaine's affectionate smile.


End file.
